


I'm A Spacebound Rocketship And Your Heart's The Moon

by baeconandeggs, verynotconcise



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Gore, Pining, Romance, Science Fiction, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 04:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14969039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/verynotconcise/pseuds/verynotconcise
Summary: There's something about the new tall, quiet neighbour.





	I'm A Spacebound Rocketship And Your Heart's The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> **Recipient:** for EVERYONE  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **Author's Note:** For my recipient, whose prompts were interesting and challenging, I sincerely hope you'll enjoy reading this.
> 
> A huge thank you to the ever patient, understanding and supportive BAE mods. To S, for your unwavering support from start to finish, and listening to my all day every day life crises. To L, for your help at the last minute, you are a gem. To M, H and everyone else who listened to my crazy ideas and were there with only encouraging words. Thank you all so much.
> 
> Title taken from Eminem's Space Bound, opening quote taken from The Neighbourhood's Reflections, which inspired me over and over and over.
> 
> (Other songs which I feel strongly about with regards to this fic also includes Gavin James' Nervous, as well as Benjamin Francis Leftwich's Is That You On That Plane.)
> 
> PS. I have nothing against people who love pineapples on their pizzas, I eat them on mine too.

_Where have you been?_  
_Do you know when you’re coming back?_  
_Cause since you’ve been gone,_  
_I’ve got along, but I’ve been sad._

_Where have you been?_  
_Do you know if you’re coming back?_

* * *

“Thank you very much for dinner today.”

“It’s not a problem. Thank you for taking the time to come for this arranged date.”

The girl fidgets uncomfortably, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ears as she averts her gaze. “Yeah, about that..” she trails off. Chanyeol already knows where this is going. “You’re a nice guy, Chanyeol. A really good guy. But I just don’t think we’re good for each other.”

“It’s okay.” It’s not. Chanyeol shrugs, trying to look unaffected. “I feel the same way.”

“Really? You do?” the girl says, looking relieved and lively all of a sudden before she realises her mistake, schooling her expression back into a more regretful look. “I mean - you do?”

“Yeah. It’s cool. It was a good dinner, we had a nice conversation.”

They laugh forcefully before falling silent again.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” the girl says sincerely. They both know it won’t happen, but pleasantries are pleasantries. Chanyeol nods in agreement, waving her goodbye as she turns to walk away before he sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck with a troubled heart. That was his fourth date that Jongdae had set up, and the fourth one that failed. He was really meant to die alone as a lonely old man with 61 cats and dogs.

He takes out his phone from his back pocket to type a quick text to Jongdae with the same words. _We met, didn’t work out._ After some thought, Chanyeol adds an ‘Again.’ to the end, hoping that Jongdae would get the hint and stop trying to play cupid anymore. The more dates that Chanyeol goes on, the more convinced he is that love is just a tale of fiction for someone like him, and it gets tiring to be reminded of this so frequently.

He quickly pockets his phone again, not wanting to read the new wave of messages that Jongdae must have been typing out that moment. He’ll deal with it once he gets home.

On the way home, Chanyeol thinks about his day. He woke up for a quick breakfast before rushing out to get sandwiched in the train, stuck in a 9 to 5 working for a boss he hates, had an awkward blind date which ended on the first date, as usual. God, how has his life become so boring? He doesn’t remember it being this way a few years ago. In fact, he had a social life back then, a dream of finding his true love and a yearning to travel the world. It’s so hard to believe how off-tangent his life has gone since then, conforming to social norms and getting a shit job that pays shit, becoming another face in the crowd.

Chanyeol sighs again as he walks through the corridor. He lives in the second last unit on their floor, and while he can’t say that he loves it, he doesn’t hate it. It may be small, but it’s always quiet, which is a good thing since that’s all he ever wants now of days: some peace at the end of a long, long day so that he can get a few good hours of shut eye before the same painful cycle repeats itself.

As he fits his key in, he realises that someone else is standing in front of the last unit. That’s strange - the last unit has remained unoccupied for a while now.

Chanyeol squints to get a better look of the tall man in the dim light. As if he could feel the burn of Chanyeol’s stare, the man looks over his shoulder with a raised brow. He couldn’t have been much older than a university student, he’s dressed casually in tshirt and jeans with a slingbag on his broad shoulders. His hair is dyed a weird shade of orange which Chanyeol frowns at. So he was _that_ kind of university student, the kid who turns up at every party and invites friends over for drinking sessions.

“Can I help you?” the man says after a long moment. Chanyeol shakes his head, slightly embarrassed by how long he’s been staring. Staring is rude, and Chanyeol doesn’t want to give a bad first impression no matter who it is.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just - did you just move in?”

The man nods curtly, giving Chanyeol a suspicious once over. “I moved in this morning.”

Oh, he must have been at work already. That explains it.

Chanyeol smiles in what he hopes is a friendly and approachable manner, raising his hand to offer a handshake. “Well, I guess this is our first meeting. My name is Park Chanyeol.”

The man looks at Chanyeol’s hand with furrowed brows, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He raises his own hesitantly and waits. After realising that the man wasn’t going to take his hand, Chanyeol moves to grasp the man’s hand in a firm handshake. He doesn’t think about how weird it is for someone who looks like a university student to not be familiar with what or how a handshake works.

“I’ve been living here for 2 years, my door is always open if you need any help.”

The man nods again but says nothing. Chanyeol’s smile falls as he realises that that was the end of their conversation - the man wasn’t going to continue talking and Chanyeol didn’t have anything else to say either. Chanyeol lets go of the man’s hand and offers a stiff smile before opening his own door.

Just before he closes the door, he hears the man say, “Sehun.”

Chanyeol opens his door slightly wider, peeking at the silhouette of the man through the gap. “What?”

“My name is Sehun.”

By now, Chanyeol kind of wishes that Sehun had introduced himself earlier to spare him the awkwardness of not knowing what to do now. Was he supposed to open the door and talk some more or what?

In the end, he settles for: “Hi, Sehun. It’s very nice to meet you.” Chanyeol can see the hint of a tight smile and he guesses that that was the only response he was going to be getting. “So, I guess I’ll see you around.”

Pleasantries.

Sehun nods again before walking back into his own unit, shutting the door so quietly that Chanyeol almost misses it if not for the creaking hinges. Chanyeol waits for a beat before sighing again, closing his own door and leaning against it heavily.

  
Chanyeol doesn’t see Sehun again. He doesn’t even hear Sehun like he hears the newly wed couple next door before he remembers that he actually has earplugs. And it’s not like Chanyeol goes about his life in a routine - he doesn’t. Some days he wakes up earlier than others to go for a jog, other nights he comes home later after dinner with friends. But not once has he ever ran into Sehun or seen a sign that the man was still living in that unit.

But that’s okay, it’s not like Chanyeol really cares about what other people do with their time, as long as he gets to come home with a peace of mind and be able to do his own things without interruptions - it’s all cool.

Until it’s not, one night many weeks after meeting Sehun. In a usual Chanyeol fashion, he freezes the moment he hears a loud shout. He can’t really be sure where it’s coming from - his neighbours, the carpark outside - he isn’t sure. So he stills and waits to see if there’ll be more commotion. When nothing else happens, Chanyeol is ready to dismiss the sudden noise as just white noise from passersby and go back to watching his dramas.

But then he hears it again, a loud piercing shriek coming from the wall in front of him. Sehun’s apartment.

Chanyeol pulls his earpiece away and cautiously steps towards the wall, placing his ear on it and trying to focus. There’s muffled screaming increasing in volume, and then, “ _Help_ me.”, which springs Chanyeol into action because what the fuck is happening in that apartment? Is Sehun getting murdered? Is _Sehun_ the one doing the murdering? Come to think of it, Sehun did have the physique of a murderer. He was tall, probably kind of muscular in the right areas too, and he had a normal face. It was always the normal ones who were the most crazy inside. A shiver runs down Chanyeol’s spine at the last thought, what did that mean for Chanyeol who was Sehun’s neighbour? Was he going to be next on the hit list because he was a potential suspect?

As Chanyeol stands outside Sehun’s door, he begins to have second thoughts. If Sehun really was a murderer, then Chanyeol might be on his hit list if he intervenes in this. The thought is almost enough to make him retreat to his apartment and pretend that he heard nothing, but he did, and it explicitly called for help. Help me.

Chanyeol raps his knuckles against Sehun’s door relentlessly. His efforts increase when he hears a stiff, “Shit.” from the other side.

It takes about a minute before the door opens, the gap so small that Chanyeol can only see half of Sehun’s face. He doesn’t look the slightest bit pleased to see Chanyeol, in fact, he looks rather annoyed.

“Can I help you?”

Chanyeol tries to tiptoe and discreetly peek over Sehun to see what’s behind, but this is a lot harder given how tall Sehun is, and that’s saying something coming from Chanyeol who sticks out like a sore thumb in crowds.

“I just thought I heard something from your unit, so I came to check.” Chanyeol murmurs, distracted. Sehun narrows his eyes as he narrows the already narrow gap even more.

“I’m pretty sure it was my TV you heard. I’m watching a crime documentary now,” Sehun says calmly, although there was a hint of impatience laced in his words. “Thank you for your concern, anyway.”

Chanyeol nods dumbly. That makes sense, why hadn’t he thought of that before jumping to the conclusion that the nice man in front of him was a murderer?

“Alright. I’m sorry for intruding on your evening.”

Sehun shrugs obviously enough for Chanyeol to see it when his body was almost entirely hidden, and starts to push the door close. But that’s when Chanyeol hears it again.

“Sehun! Please stop it.” a foreign voice calls, sounding very much in pain, “My _arm_! Help me!”

Chanyeol wedges his foot between the remaining gap, hands whacking against the door extremely loud. He can vaguely see Sehun’s eyes narrow as he tries to shut the door, not caring about Chanyeol’s poor foot dangerously close to being a relic of the past.

“That didn’t sound like the TV to me.” Chanyeol grits. Sehun clicks his tongue.

“Sehun is a common name. Just visit Seoul Tower and you’ll know.”

In this panic-filled mind, Chanyeol shouts the first thing that he can think of to stop the aching pressure on his foot, “I’ll call the police!”

This stops Sehun from actively trying to close the door, but he pushes back just enough for the very, very, very narrow gap to remain as it is.

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll- I’ll call the police if you don’t let me in! Something is obviously very wrong and it’s very suspicious that you’re trying to hide it.”

Sehun’s eyes narrow even further, making Chanyeol wilt under that calculative and murderous look. But after a moment of hesitation, Sehun releases the door, and Chanyeol almost falls in with how abruptly the door comes open.

Now, Chanyeol wishes he had never complained about how mundane his life is, because while he wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting to see, he was pretty sure it wasn’t a man with an arm half detached from his body, with a kind of green slimey liquid leaking out of his body quickly, pooling around him. The man’s dark brown hair is a mess, and is that _soot_ on his face?

The man stares at him in shock, wide eyes widening further. Chanyeol swallows thickly.

Distantly, Chanyeol hears the door close and footsteps walking closer to him. Sehun folds his arms, looking like he was torn between wanting to laugh at Chanyeol and saying ‘I told you so’.

“By any chance, do you happen to have a sewing kit?”

Chanyeol doesn’t really know what to make of the situation. Just a few minutes ago he was in his room thinking that someone was dying in this room, and now he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor reattaching some poor lad’s arm with an amateur hand sewing kit he bought years ago, with green goo seeping out of the unattached parts and falling in clumps onto the space between his legs.

Licking his lips, Chanyeol chances a glance at the guy, who is staring blatantly at him.

“You’re staring.” the man points out. Chanyeol flushes as he ducks his head, reaverting his attention back to the more pressing matter at hand (literally). After a beat, the man says again, cheerily, “I was pulling your leg, you weren’t staring. I was.”

“I’ll give you something to pull.” Chanyeol mutters under his breath, his needle piercing through skin again. He hears Sehun click his tongue from behind him.

“You’d better not think of pulling anything, Chanyeol.” Sehun warns in an even tone. Chanyeol sighs, chest heaving and eyes rolling.

“I’m doing you a favour, aren’t I? Don’t I get some kind of thanks for this? Or is this going to be another one of my many thankless jobs?”

“You get to save my life.” the man suggests.

“That isn’t -” Chanyeol begins, then pauses when he sees the expectant look on the man’s face, eagerly waiting for him to complete his sentence. From behind him, Sehun slides into view with a brow raised in challenge, as if daring Chanyeol to say it and possibly get beaten up after. And well, there are 2 of them and only 1 of him, and he’s human, while they could probably reattach their heads should it happen to fall off or something. So with slight difficulty, Chanyeol swallows back his words and looks back down at the ugly stitches, uneven black jagged lines against pale skin.

As his needle pierces the skin again, another clump of goo falls down, but it lands on Chanyeol’s foot instead of the floor. He grimaces to himself, and the man catches his look of disgust.

“It has healing properties,” the man offers, as if that alone cancels out how yucky it looks sliding down his foot like a slug, “if you rub it on your open wounds, it will heal much faster.”

“Does it heal a wounded heart?” Chanyeol asks dryly.

“You have a wounded heart?” the man asks in worry.

Chanyeol looks back up, surprised by the genuine concern in the man’s expression. “I’m kidding. Jesus, it’s a metaphor. Haven’t you heard of it?”

The man tilts his head in confusion, “What’s a metaphor?”

Chanyeol stares at the man, then at Sehun, who looks as unimpressed as ever. Nope, no help would be coming from Sehun, even if he looks like he knows what Chanyeol was talking about. Great. Perfect.

“It’s a figure of speech.” Chanyeol sighs, “You used it just now, when you said that you were pulling my leg.”

Chanyeol watches the man’s face go through a few expressions, namely: confusion, wonder, and then underadultered happiness. It felt like the kind of scene out of a movie where the sky will clear and the sun would rise, and the birds will sing in perfect harmony with this man in center stage.

“I didn’t know that you humans coin such terms for speech.” the man wonders aloud, “But I must say that I am most impressed with how innovative and creative your kind is.”

“So what do your kind call it then?”

“We just call it what it is: talking.”

Chanyeol looks to Sehun who shrugs indifferently in affirmation. “He’s right. Humans have too much time to do useless things.”

“And what qualifies as being ‘useless’?”

“I don’t know, that thing that spins between your fingers?”

Chanyeol looks back down, biting his tongue and not mentioning anything about how crazily fun and addictive fidget spinners were. Why would Chanyeol know about how fun they were anyway, it’s not like he has a shiny brand new one that he just ordered last week.

In an awkward silence, Chanyeol manages to finish the last stitch and knot it, albeit clumsily.

“Done.” Chanyeol breathes out, staring at his frankenstein masterpiece with disbelief and slight horror. Sehun closes in on the man, asking him to move his arm and wiggle his fingers, which the man does compliantly. So far so good.

“Thank you.” Sehun says politely, sincerely. Chanyeol nods, beginning to pack his kit up but then hesitating at throwing the needle into the box. Does he want to use this needle ever again? His eyes wander to the messy stitches, and then he closes the box quickly, leaving out the needle.

The man on the floor notices, “Oh, you forgot this!” he says hurriedly, reaching out to pick the needle up. Well, damn, Chanyeol thinks.

“Thanks.” Chanyeol replies stiffly, holding the needle like a diseased item between his fingers and far away from the rest of his body. Okay, now that he has everything, it’s time for him to get the hell out of there and forget everything that has happened. “Okay, so, I’m going to go back.” Chanyeol says, motioning vaguely towards the door. The man looks up in surprise, trying to grab onto the hem of Chanyeol’s shorts with his newly reattached arm, which makes Chanyeol frown disturbedly.

“Wait, you’re going back?”

“Uh,” Chanyeol looks to the door, then back at the man at his foot, “yes?”

“But- we haven’t talked about this.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“ _Things_.”

Chanyeol raises a skeptical brow, quickly pulling his leg from the man’s grasp in one swift motion. The man yelps as he falls closer to the floor, causing Sehun to move forward and help him up.

“Wait, we haven’t introduced ourselves to each other yet!” he cries, but Chanyeol is already at the door. He knows he shouldn’t be this rude, but he can’t help the fear coursing through his body, his instincts screaming at him to run the hell away from here. But Chanyeol wills himself to flash them a weak smile as he opens the door.

The man must take the smile as a sign for him to continue. He allows himself to be pulled up by Sehun as he shouts, “It’s Baekhyun.” just as Chanyeol waltzes through the door, “My name is Baekhyun!”

Chanyeol looks over his shoulder before he closes the door, offering a stiff smile and no acknowledgement of anything else before he scurries back to his room. As soon as he’s back, he throws his sewing kit into the back of his closet where he never touches and throws _himself_ under the covers, pulling it to his chin for extra comfort and assurance.

It’s only then that he realises how he’s trembling in shock and disbelief. When his mother taught him the importance of having considerate and kind neighbours, and the importance of being one himself, Chanyeol never imagined that things would pan out the way they did in any universe, much less in this one which he happens to live in. And now that he thinks of it, why did he even help Sehun and Baekhyun when he should have ran back and called the police? They clearly weren’t human, and who knows what they might do to him now that he knows their secret? Would he be monitored? Would he be killed?

Chanyeol knows that he has always had a habit of sleeping with his eyes open, but it was for a different reason that night.

  
Chanyeol doesn’t think that he is paranoid, but sometimes he wishes he was just so that he can chalk it up to imagination when he says that he thinks Baekhyun is stalking him.

It starts with Chanyeol leaving his unit bright and early in the morning, as he always does, just a few minutes earlier than he actually needs to report to work in order to beat the morning crowd. As he locks his door and checks that it’s locked, he hears a soft thump from the next unit.

Sehun’s unit.

Chanyeol stills in his position, with his hand still on the doorknob, turning slowly to face the unsuspecting door a feet away and waits for any other noise. Nothing.

Maybe Chanyeol was just imagining things now. He didn’t manage to sleep well last night with all sorts of scenarios running through his head throughout the entire night, which was understandable for a person who just sewed an arm back onto a person or thing or whatever, with green globs of goo falling from their open wound. That was some nasty shit he went through and it excuses him from any irrational behaviour he might exhibit in the coming days, months or decades.

So Chanyeol leaves his unit in a flurry, catching the same bus and managing to get a corner seat this morning - which automatically makes it a good morning, by the way. He’s busy scrolling through his playlist for his latest download when he catches it, a swift and shifty movement from the corner of his eye. Chanyeol pauses before he looks up in the direction of the movement.

There’s an elderly man who’s picking his nose with interest, there’s a casually dressed young woman who is leaning away from the elderly man, and then there’s someone reading the newspaper upside down.

Chanyeol’s eyes narrows sharply, and the person reading the newspaper raises it higher, hiding his entire body behind it. Suspicious. Very suspicious. Chanyeol could either be reading too much into it, or he could be right, and being right would be a really scary option.

So Chanyeol tries his best to pretend like he doesn’t see the same newspaper following him through the busy streets, standing around the 7-11 he’s buying cup noodles for lunch from, or at the bus stop, casually swinging his leg alternatively. It gets really hard to pretend like he wasn’t being followed by someone, but Chanyeol tries. And he tries very hard. Very, very hard.

Sadly, even his acting skills can’t save newspaper stalker from his patience.

“What do you want, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol sighs loudly as he forces his key into the keyhole, side-eyeing his neighbour who is loitering at the fire escape down the corridor, the same newspaper still covering his face, still upside down.

Baekhyun lowers the newspaper just enough for them to make eye contact, “You knew?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Chanyeol deadpans.

“But how did you know it was me? It could’ve been Sehun.”

“Sehun isn’t that short.”

“Oh.” Baekhyun frowns, arms falling and finally letting the newspaper down, “I suppose you have a point.”

Chanyeol watches Baekhyun waddle awkwardly to him, dwarfed in a coat too long for him, looking more like a dress than a coat. It must have been Sehun’s.

“Is there a reason why you’ve been stalking me the entire day?”

“Stalking is a strong word to use,” Baekhyun says, raising a finger and waving it next to his face, “I prefer to use the word ‘observing’.”

“Okay, _fine_ , observing, whatever.” Chanyeol bristles, “Is this about last night? Are you worried that I might tell others that you’re an alien-”

Chanyeol barely manages to get the last word out before Baekhyun throws himself onto Chanyeol, cupping Chanyeol’s mouth urgently and pushing them through the open door before shutting it behind him with a foot.

“Shh! You can’t just _say_ it out in the open like that, Chanyeol. Someone could have heard you.”

“There was literally no one else around.” Chanyeol argues, words slightly muffled by Baekhyun’s surprisingly slender fingers, “And I thought I was the paranoid one.”

“But you never know. There could have been someone.” Baekhyun clambers off of Chanyeol, who straightens himself against the door, putting as much distance as he can between Baekhyun and himself. Oh god, Baekhyun was in his house, and he was against the door. There was literally nowhere to run. He could try to use his height to his advantage if Baekhyun ever became homicidal, but his scrawny arms and legs wouldn’t be much help, and from the way that Baekhyun jumped him seconds ago, he could tell that Baekhyun was ripped under those layers. Jesus.

“Look, I don’t know anything else besides the fact that you aren’t human. And by association I’m assuming neither is Sehun.”

“Good. Things should stay that way. You’re lucky we haven’t erased your memory yet.”

“Erase my memory?” Chanyeol repeats incredulously, “Why would you do that?”

“You’re a threat to our existence.” Baekhyun reasons calmly, “If word gets out that we’re here, your government would probably not take too kindly to cohabitation. And besides, that’s the least of my problems right now.”

“The least of your problems? So what, there’s even more danger coming for you?” Chanyeol folds his arms across his chest, shifting his weight on his left foot, “Shouldn’t I get to know some of these dangers?”

“I can’t just divulge you such confidential information, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun flicks his fringe away from his eyes with an air of coolness, staring into space disinterestedly.

“I literally sewed your arm back.” Chanyeol deadpans, “It took me an hour.”

Baekhyun freezes in place for a moment before he relents, “Yeah, alright, I’ll tell you everything.”

Wow, okay, that was easy.

“So, as you already guessed, I’m not a human. Neither is Sehun. We’re both inhabitants of a planet called Exoplanet.”

“A planet called Exoplanet? That’s a stupid name. So what are you guys called, Exoplanetians?” Chanyeol chuckles under his breath. Baekhyun draws back, looking offended, making Chanyeol cough awkwardly, “Uh, no offense or anything.”

“It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful planet. What kind of name is Earth? Do you call yourselves Earthians?”

Chanyeol looks down in shame, “So what do you call yourselves?”

“We are Exo.” Baekhyun says proudly, “We have powers.”

Chanyeol sighs painfully, rubbing his temples as he walks towards his small kitchen with Baekhyun following closely behind. Chanyeol takes out two cups and pours water into both of them, although he wishes that he had hard liquor right now because it seemed like the perfect moment to get drunk out of his mind.

“Right. Powers.” Chanyeol says after taking a gulp of water, “What kind of powers are we talking about here?”

“Superpowers. It differs from person to person, really.” Baekhyun explains, waving his hands about excitedly, “So while Sehun has the power of wind, I have the power of light.”

“Okay, wait. Before we go any further into you having powers, how did you even end up here on Earth?”

Baekhyun smiles, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet, “Well, that kind of has everything to do with our powers. To tell the truth, a major universal disaster just happened. One of the strongest planets in this universe, SM, recently imploded due to internal strife. And well, there’s this other planet, Red Force, which has been conquering its neighbours to harness their power for the wrong reasons. Exoplanet has been trying to stop their growth, but with the recent implosion of SM, the Red Force has made a quick decisive move to attack.”

“So, what? You guys stepped in?”

“Yes, exactly. Exo tried to stop the Red Force, but we were overpowered. Sehun was sent here to recover and grow stronger, since Earth is supposedly to be windier than Exoplanet.”

“Okay, so why are you here then?”

“It was kind of an accident?” Baekhyun laughs weakly with a sheepish look, “I was attacked and somehow, I lost my power and fell to Earth, and also nearly lost my arm when I hit Earth. Which kind of explains, you know, why I was bleeding out in Sehun’s unit.”

“Fell to Earth.”

“Fell to Earth.” Baekhyun nods.

Chanyeol runs a hand through his hair as he leans against the kitchen sink, “Jesus, you didn’t burn up and disintegrate when you entered the atmosphere.”

“I don’t know, is that a thing?” Baekhyun tilts his head to the side, looking thoughtful, “Maybe my skin possesses different qualities that make it difficult to burn? I’m not really sure, sorry, I’ve never tried to burn myself on purpose.”

“Right. Right.” Chanyeol nods with pinched eyes, “So what is your purpose here? To get your power back?”

“Exactly. In the words of my leader, he told me to ‘get your power back, get some rest and not attract any attention to yourself’.”

“I hate to break it to you but I think you failed the last part on your first day here.” Chanyeol says blankly.

“Yeah, but it was necessary attention.” Baekhyun argues, “As long as I don’t attract any other attention, I should be fine. And besides, it’s not like you’ll be telling anyone.”

“I won’t?” Chanyeol asks, looking up with wide eyes, genuinely surprised by the hint of a warning in Baekhyun’s tone.

“I don’t know.” Baekhyun’s eyes narrow just enough for Chanyeol to get the message, “Will you?”

  
“God, what is up with you today?” Jongdae snaps, snatching the menu from Chanyeol’s hands with extreme irritation. Chanyeol only focuses back into the present when he realises that Jongdae was glaring at him across the table, fingernails digging little crescents into the menu.

“What? Did you say something?” Chanyeol asks sincerely.

“You’ve been having that dumb blank look on your face since I met you half an hour ago. And I haven’t seen that look on your face since that time you tried to ask Sooyoung out after that disastrous dance you had in high school.”

Chanyeol nods thoughtfully, still in a daze, before something clicks in his head. “Did she-”

“No, Chanyeol.” Jongdae interrupts, “She was staring at the kimchi stuck between your teeth, _not_ your lips. _Moving on_ , what is up with you today?”

“I can’t tell you.” Chanyeol mutters softly, looking down at the frayed edges of his sleeves. Chanyeol frowns to himself, he just bought this shirt a year ago, how was it falling apart already?

“Why not? Is this about the guy with the bushy eyebrows at work?”

“What? Kyungsoo? No.”

“Damn,” Jongdae curses under his breath, “I can swear that he has a thing for you.”

“Kyungsoo? Do Kyungsoo?” then Chanyeol promptly bursts into a fit of laughter, hitting the table and clapping away, gasping for breath, “Do Kyungsoo, having a thing for me? You must be out of your fucking mind, Jongdae. It finally happened. I don’t know how, but you’ve finally lost your balls.”

“The last I checked, they were still there, Chanyeol.” Jongdae says, unamused, “Unlike _someone_ , who hasn’t even grown a pair yet. Seriously, though, my friend’s friend told my friend about that date you guys had a few days ago. I thought she would be someone compatible with you, Chanyeol. What happened?”

The laughter immediately dies in his throat, Chanyeol shifts uneasily in his seat, “You mean, what didn’t happen?”

“What?”

“We didn’t click. That’s all. Different political views, different philosophies. You know that polar opposites don’t attract, you need the right balance of opposite and alike to really get along without tearing each other’s faces off.”

“You have a philosophy?”

“I mean, I think so?” Chanyeol says unsurely, “Or at least, we have differing views on how we should live life. She’s the kind that treasures each day for what it is, and me.. Well, you know me. I like planning ahead for the future. I want to have some predictability in life. She’s out there travelling the world without thoughts of settling down, but I’m already 28, don’t you think that’s near a good age to settle down and start a family?”

“Yeah, but on the flip side, you’re only 28. Think about it, Chanyeol, you’re only going to go through this period of your life once before you have to settle down and do the same boring job for the rest of your life.” Jongdae’s expression softens, looking nostalgic and sad at the same time, “I remember that in high school, you said that you wanted explore the rest of the world before you die. Don’t you still have some wanderlust?”

“I do, but I think that securing a good future is still the most important thing for me right now.” Chanyeol insists, “You have to be financially stable before you can even think about travelling elsewhere, right? Then you’ll finally have the means to do it.”

“But will you have the time and energy for it if you keep telling yourself that you’ll do it ‘someday’?”

Chanyeol purses his lips, “Yes.” he replies resolutely, ending the conversation. Chanyeol came out to have a good time, not to feel so attacked by his own best friend. But that was the truth: a long time ago, Chanyeol had bigger dreams than just this, but along the way as he grew older, he also he grew up and realised that sometimes, the world was just too big for him.

Jongdae regards Chanyeol silently for a second before sighing, shaking his head as he opens the menu.

“Speaking of which, there’s this single friend of mine who doesn’t mind going on a date with you.” Jongdae speaks over Chanyeol’s long and exasperated groaning, “Are you free this weekend?”

Even if Chanyeol doesn’t enjoy going on these dates, he’s still immensely grateful that Jongdae is still trying, “This weekend? Yeah, I’m most probably free.”

“Don’t play hard to get, Chanyeol, that’s not attractive.” Jongdae scoffs, fishing out his phone from his back pocket and typing on it like he was trying to decimate his phone.

  
Which is how Chanyeol ends up ice skating next to a really pretty and polite woman named Yoona, who is currently holding onto his hands and gliding across the uneven ice with ease and a bright smile on her face.

“You’re doing great, Chanyeol.” she encourages, moving backwards and pulling him along as she does. Chanyeol wobbles a bit at a dip in the ice before he straightens his legs out again, making the both of them laugh at the feeling of fear that they might have fallen. “Okay, maybe not _great_ , but you’re not doing as bad as you claimed you would.”

“Only because you’re such a pro at skating.” Chanyeol says honestly, “How do you make it look so easy?”

“Practice makes perfect.” she giggles, “We can always come again if you want to.”

Which makes Chanyeol’s heart want to grow wings and flutter. Did he hear her right? ‘We’ as in Yoona and Chanyeol? Not a ‘you’? He’s been so used to being rejected in subtle ways that now that he’s not rejected, he doesn’t actually know how to proceed. Is this where he asks her out again formally? Is he supposed to play it cool? Or do girls like it when men express their happiness?

Chanyeol brings a hand to his mouth, trying to hide his smile as he looks away. His eyes skirts along the outdoor rink at the other skaters, some of which are skating quickly with vicious movements, some others holding onto the metal poles and taking baby steps, and one of them reading a newspaper..?

Damn it, it’s the same bloody newspaper from five days ago. Chanyeol curses internally before he turns apologetically to Yoona, “Excuse me for a second.”

And then he’s skating all the way to the other end of the rink with extreme difficulty, almost falling a few times before he gives up and pulls himself along the edge of the rink. As he approaches his target, his target manages to slide a few steps away, trying not to look too obvious while doing so. It continues in a sort of dance routine before Chanyeol has enough and brute forces his way over, crushing the newspaper down the middle with a gloved hand.

Baekhyun peers up at Chanyeol, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Hi Chanyeol.” he laughs shakily.

“What are you doing here?” Chanyeol says, cutting to the point. Baekhyun scratches his cheek, averting his gaze.

“Observing you.”

Chanyeol pinches the bridge of his nose, “Look, just because I know that you’re following me doesn’t make it right for you to keep following me.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s an invasion of privacy! I could call the police on you, or get a restraining order or something.”

Baekhyun actually looks sad now, “Will you?”

Chanyeol tries to maintain his anger and annoyance, but one look at Baekhyun and his sad puppy-like pout has him deflating, “No, I won’t.”

Baekhyun beams, leaning sideways enough to look behind Chanyeol, “She’s really pretty, by the way.”

This makes Chanyeol smile bashfully, “Yeah, she really is, isn’t she?”

“And also leaving.”

“What?”

“I think she’s leaving.” Baekhyun says simply, pointing a long finger at Yoona’s retreating back. Shit.

Chanyeol skates as fast as he can across, managing to catch Yoona only after she’s taken off her skates at the benches outside. “Hey, where’re you going?” Chanyeol asks breathlessly. Yoona looks up at him, amusement twinkling in her expressive eyes.

“I was going to get us 3 cups of hot coffee.”

Us? Three?

“One for your friend over there as well.” Yoona adds, nodding behind Chanyeol. Turning around with trepidation seizing him in its tight grip, Chanyeol finds Baekhyun clinging onto the side of the rink, waving an arm enthusiastically at them.

What the fuck? Did Yoona just invite Baekhyun into _their_ date? Did their date just go from a _date_ , to an outing between friends (if it can even be called that)?

True enough, Yoona treats them each to a steaming cup of coffee, effectively taking out the ‘exclusive’ in their date. They’re sitting down on chairs near a little van selling overpriced coffee, but it is pretty nice to drink something hot in such cold weather, _and_ he didn’t pay for it, so Chanyeol sips it gratefully.

“So, uh, Baekhyun, this is Yoona. She’s my date.” Chanyeol says, gesturing to Yoona before he turns to her and points to Baekhyun with his other hand, “And Yoona, this is Baekhyun.”

Yoona smiles politely at Baekhyun, “Oh, and he is?”

An alien, Chanyeol thinks. “My neighbour.” he says instead, “He moved in very recently.”

Very, very recently.

Baekhyun grins at her as he takes a tentative sip of coffee, which makes Chanyeol realise that it might be his first time trying coffee on Earth, since he isn’t sure if there is coffee on Exoplanet. He watches as Baekhyun’s eyelids flutter shut, making a noise of contentment at the back of his throat.

“This is so good,” Baekhyun chimes, “I love it.”

“It isn’t the best here.” Yoona pauses, bringing a pretty finger to her lips as she thinks, “There’s a cafe not too far from here that sells really good food and drinks. We can all go there for tea break if you’d like?” she says, looking to Chanyeol for confirmation.

If this were still just between the two of them, Chanyeol could imagine how elated he would be. But instead, all he feels now is lukewarm feelings of giddiness, because next to him Baekhyun was bouncing in his seat, eyes shimmering with anticipation. Baekhyun looks towards Chanyeol quietly, mouth in a rectangular smile, resembling a puppy.

Chanyeol sighs inwardly. He’ll need to find a way to get rid of Baekhyun, or at least find a way to say no to Baekhyun when he does that thing with his face. When he looks at Chanyeol with so much excitement and happiness that it’s impossible to say no.

He expects something to go awry, because Baekhyun is an alien, and he isn’t supposed to get along with humans well. But in all honesty, things go much better than he expects them to. Yoona and Baekhyun get along surprisingly well, fawning over the photogenic food and 3D milk foamed coffees. Chanyeol watches it unfold in front of him like a movie- the way that Baekhyun gets excited when Yoona shakes the cup, making the milk foam jiggle, the way that Yoona laughs when Baekhyun attempts to eat the cake with his fingers. It’s so awfully stupid and obvious that Baekhyun isn’t used to doing things normally- the human way- that it’s actually funny. Somewhere along the way, Chanyeol finds himself laughing with the two of them, slapping Baekhyun’s arm too hard and hearing Baekhyun whine dramatically as Yoona wipes away the tears from her eyes.

The day is ending and Chanyeol is trailing behind them, exhausted from the skating and laughing, when Yoona spins around, facing him with that gummy smile of hers. “Thank you very much for taking the time today.” she says gleefully. Chanyeol prepares himself for the words of rejection that always followed, but instead Yoona continues with, “I’m not very sure if you’d like to go out with me again, but I’m open to another date.”

“What.” Chanyeol says flatly, “What do you mean that you’re not sure if I want to go out with you again? I do. It’s been a great time with you today, the best I’ve had in a while, in fact.”

Yoona blushes a bit, looking down, “Well, yes, I had a great time too. But the thing is that I’m not sure if you had a great time because of me or because of Baekhyun.”

“What.”

“It might just be my imagination, but I felt like you really opened up after Baekhyun joined us. You weren’t so relaxed when it was just the two of us.”

“I was nervous, I’m not good at skating.”

Yoona shakes her head with a knowing look, and it makes Chanyeol wonder what she knows that he doesn’t. “It’s not just that. Women have an instinct, Chanyeol. I know it was Baekhyun that helped you to relax.”

As Yoona waves them goodbye and disappears into the underground tunnel, the words are still replaying itself over and over again, like carving words into stone. Baekhyun? Helping him to relax? If anything, Baekhyun was the _source_ of his recent stress. His recent lack of sleep, his quicker footsteps, all attributed to the person poking his head into Chanyeol’s line of sight.

“Hey, Chanyeol?”

“What?”

“I didn’t ask you just now, because I wasn’t sure if it was common human knowledge, but what is a date?”

Chanyeol blinks, that was unexpected. “Well, a date is when people who like each other go out to get to know the other better.”

“Oh, does that mean that we were on a date today?”

“We?”

“We.” Baekhyun repeats, pointing to Chanyeol and then back at himself. Chanyeol follows the movement, words echoing in his mind. We. We. _We_.

And then he laughs loudly, clutching his stomach with a hand while slapping Baekhyun’s arm with the other. Baekhyun cries as he jumps away.

“We were not on a date, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol manages to say in between gasps for breath, “We were on an outing as friends.”

Baekhyun perks up at Chanyeol’s words while rubbing his arm, “Oh, am I your friend now?”

Chanyeol’s laughter trails off. “Neighbours. We’re neighbours.” he corrects.

“You just said we went out as friends.”

“Slip of the tongue. Neighbours.”

Baekhyun’s smile drops, “When can we be friends then?”

“When I want us to be friends.”

“But I want you to be my friend, does that count?”

Chanyeol stills, side-glancing at Baekhyun. “Why?”

Baekhyun shrugs, “You’re the only person I have here besides Sehun.”

Baekhyun looks really sad now, in the quiet kind of way. He’s still holding onto his arm- the one that Chanyeol stitched back- but he’s toeing the ground, lower lip slightly protruding, and it makes Chanyeol feel really bad now.

“I’ll think about it.” Chanyeol says at last. Baekhyun looks up from under his fringe, cautiously hopeful. Chanyeol expects Baekhyun to smile again and revert back to his jolly self, but Baekhyun doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t do anything either. The weight in Chanyeol’s stomach grows heavier. He messed up, but he doesn’t know what to do to make Baekhyun smile again.

Just then, a little chubby boy passes by with a cup of ice cream in his hand. While Chanyeol is apprehensive that it’ll work, it’s still worth a shot.

“Hey,” Chanyeol says. Baekhyun looks up, looking blankly at Chanyeol, “let’s get ice cream, okay? My treat.”

“Ice cream?”

“Yeah, it’s frozen flavoured cream. It’s really sweet.” Chanyeol explains. When Baekhyun furrows his brows, Chanyeol worries that Baekhyun was going to say no, but then a small smile forms on those lips, and it’s the most relief he’s felt all day.

“Okay, I trust your taste.” Baekhyun says.

Chanyeol smiles back at Baekhyun, eyes lingering longer on his arm. “By the way, how’s your arm?”

“Healing. It felt a lot better before you hit me though.”

“I’m sorry.” Chanyeol apologises quickly. Baekhyun shakes his head, and even if his smile isn’t as bright as it was earlier in the day, it’s still there, and that has to count for something, right?

“I had fun today, and you’re going to buy me this ice cream thing. So I guess it makes up for the pain.”

Chanyeol laughs, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get you two scoops, okay?”

As it turns out, Baekhyun really enjoys ice cream, but he eats it sloppily, getting it all over his fingers and coat, and even some on Chanyeol’s new shoes when Chanyeol tries to help Baekhyun clean off the sticky treat. Chanyeol tries to be annoyed because those shoes cost him a few hundred, but then Baekhyun’s smiling again with ice cream smeared all over his lips and it makes the negative feelings wash out of him in waves.

  
Chanyeol runs into Sehun the following day. Literally.

“Ow,” Chanyeol mutters, dropping his phone as he knocks into someone else in the corridor. As Chanyeol bends down to pick his phone up, he notices that it’s Sehun.

“Hello.” Sehun says monotonously. He waits for Chanyeol to stand up again before he continues speaking, “I heard about what happened.”

“What happened?” Chanyeol asks sincerely, because he doesn’t know what Sehun’s talking about. Damn the man for being so cryptic.

“He told you,” Sehun elaborates, then hesitating slightly, “about us.”

 _Now_ Chanyeol is thoroughly confused. He tries to remember having a conversation where Baekhyun outed himself and Sehun, but if his memory serves him right, such a conversation never happened.

It’s only when he sees the tick of agitation in Sehun’s eyes that he realises what Sehun meant. “Oh,” Chanyeol draws the word, “that. Right. Yes, Baekhyun told me about you. And him.”

Sehun nods curtly, closing the space between them until they’re nearly chest to chest. It’s been a really long time since Chanyeol has been this close to another human being, much less an alien, and he really doesn’t feel comfortable at all. But Sehun’s expression is serious and Chanyeol’s will to live is stronger than his discomfort at the moment.

“Right. I’m only going to say this once.” Sehun says, “Baekhyun is a beloved brother of mine. I love him even if he’s prone to danger and killing himself, and I will protect him at all costs, especially now that he’s the most vulnerable that he’s ever been. So if you ever do anything to put him in danger, I will never forgive you.”

Chanyeol gulps, nodding quickly. “I won’t hurt him, I promise.”

Sehun nods again, eyes looking rather shifty now that the moment had gone past the socially acceptable timeframe for ‘serious’ into ‘awkward’. Chanyeol knows, he’s been in Sehun’s shoes too often for his liking. Deciding to take pity and mercy on Sehun, Chanyeol slowly edges away from the tall man with a stiff smile on his face, hopefully natural enough to comfort Sehun. If Sehun notices the way that Chanyeol’s eyes doesn’t crinkle at the side, he does a good job of hiding it behind equally guarded eyes, following Chanyeol until the lift doors close with a resounding but dull thud.

The entire situation with Baekhyun is really bumming Chanyeol out. Not that he wasn’t bummed about it before, but Yoona’s words are still there, and if Chanyeol wasn’t thinking enough about it before, Sehun’s threat made things a billion time worse. Chanyeol wants to skip town and change his name and never come back, but then he thinks about how Jongdae would personally kill him, bring him back to life only to kill him _again_ , and decides not to go ahead with the plan.

Instead, he’s bent over his desk, sulking all over the place and making noises of misery and suffering every now and then, completely neglecting the non-existent work he has for the day.

“Do I want to know why you’re acting like an even bigger piece of shit today?” Kyungsoo asks from next door, not missing a beat as he types away boredly.

“No. Not really.” Chanyeol says into the desktop, so that all Kyungsoo hears is ‘mmm mmmm mmm’. But Kyungsoo, being privy to too many of Chanyeol’s mid-day meltdowns, is too experienced not to be able to decipher it. “But since you asked, I’ll tell you anyway.” Chanyeol declares, peeling himself off his table painstakingly and rolling his chair over to Kyungsoo’s desk.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, not bothering to spare Chanyeol a glance. “What did you do this time?”

Chanyeol pouts, “That’s not a fair statement. I’m not always the cause of my own pain and misery, you know.”

“Enough for me to tell when is which.” Okay, fair enough. “So, what did you do?”

“Okay, so I have this friend-”

“- Of course, it _conveniently_ happens to everyone’s friend.”

“Okay, fine, I have this acquaintance. He’s not a friend, but I know him.” Chanyeol catches Kyungsoo’s weird glance, “It’s weird, don’t ask. But anyway, so this acquaintance of mine is really weird. Like, really weird. I can’t explain how weird he is, so you’ll have to take my word when I say that he’s really weird, okay?”

Chanyeol leans back on his chair, tilting enough to face the ceiling. Kyungsoo even stops typing and spins his seat around to listen. “So, this weird guy wants to be my friend. He said so explicitly. But the problem is that I’m just not comfortable enough around him to want to be his friend, you know?”

“Why? Did he do anything to hurt you?”

“No, he didn’t. And that’s the thing because he’s been trying to be a friend to me. He’s talking to me, even when he probably knows that I don’t want to talk to him. And every time I see his hurt expression, it makes me feel bad. I don’t want to be around him, but I don’t want to hurt him either.”

“Is there a specific reason why he makes you feel uncomfortable around him?” Kyungsoo asks. Chanyeol shakes his head.

“It’s just how different he is from me.”

Kyungsoo hums thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on his chin, “Chanyeol, I’m going to be honest with you. This predicament you found yourself in is strange to me not only because I’ve never known you to pass judgements on people before you got to know them first, but also because of your unwillingness to give me specifics- which must mean that this is serious- so I’ll trust you when you say that this person is strange. But more importantly, I don’t understand why you’ve already decided not to befriend this person beforehand. If he’s as nice as you say he is, then shouldn’t you at least try to know him a little bit better?”

Chanyeol nods dumbly, so Kyungsoo proceeds, “Look, I’m not saying that you should go out of your way to be best buddies or anything. But I remember that when I first joined this company, no one wanted to be my friend because they thought I was glaring at them when I was just squinting due to my bad eyesight. And then you came the next day, recovered from your fever, and invited me to lunch and then dinner and drinks.”

“You looked so angry all the time back then.” Chanyeol chuckles. Kyungsoo cracks a small smile in agreement.

“Yeah. The point is: you never excluded anyone. You always did your best to make them feel wanted and welcomed, which is why this is quite bizarre to me. My advice is for you to throw away all your ill feelings towards this man. Maybe he’s just misunderstood, who knows? You’ll only get to know if you want to be his friend if you’ve tried, right?”

Chanyeol pulls himself up right, staring at Kyungsoo in wonder and awe, “Oh my god,” Chanyeol breathes out, “you’re right.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes as he turns his seat back around, starting to type where he left off. “Of course I am.”

Chanyeol rolls his chair back to his table, feeling like the truth of the world was unveiled in front of him. Baekhyun was like any other visitor from a very distant place, if you ignore the part where he’s from another planet, or that he bleeds green slime, or that he has superpowers. But either way, in spite of all their differences and Baekhyun’s stalkerish tendencies, Chanyeol realises that most of his negative feelings towards the alien stemmed from their bad first meeting. With this in mind, Chanyeol starts to think of ways to make up for his bad attitude towards Baekhyun. He can do this, he’s going to make things less awkward and more fun.

Except that when Chanyeol finds Baekhyun swinging his legs at the bus stop, the optimism dies out almost immediately.

“Hi, Chanyeol!”

“Hi, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol says with a bit of dread, “Were you following me again?”

Baekhyun’s grin changes into something less happy, willing Chanyeol to understand him, “No. I was waiting here for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You made it clear that you didn’t enjoy being followed around, so I decided to wait here for you to end work.” when Chanyeol doesn’t comment, Baekhyun adds, quietly, “I didn’t follow you anywhere else, I promise.”

Chanyeol stares at Baekhyun, taking in the heavy coat on his shoulders, and then the light drizzle, “How long have you been waiting here?”

“I don’t know, I don’t have a time calculator here.”

There’s a thought that comes; what if Baekhyun had been here all day? There was no way for Baekhyun to know exactly when Chanyeol would end work, since he goes for dinner with friends on some days and on others, he goes home straight. There was no fixed schedule for Baekhyun to follow, and if Baekhyun doesn’t have a watch, there was no way for him to estimate the time as well.

Chanyeol sits heavily next to Baekhyun, taking off his black scarf and wrapping it securely around Baekhyun’s slender neck. “You’re an idiot,” Chanyeol says at last, “What if I went out with my friends and never came to this bus stop? Would you have kept waiting for me?”

Baekhyun looks down at the scarf, curling his fingers around the cloth without a word. Chanyeol sighs.

“Look, I’m really touched that you waited for me, but you might catch a cold waiting here for me in this weather.”

“Exo doesn’t get sick the way humans do.”

“But still, I don’t want you to waste your time like this. You could have been warm at home.”

“Home is many, many miles away from here, Chanyeol. Besides, I wouldn’t call it a waste of time. I got to see my friend.” Baekhyun says, looking pointedly at Chanyeol. And Chanyeol knows what Baekhyun is doing, he’s giving him the chance to either accept it or push him away. If this was a day ago, Chanyeol would have immediately corrected Baekhyun by saying that they were neighbours, acquaintances; but this is now, and he doesn’t want to do that anymore.

“I’m glad that I got to see my friend too,” Chanyeol speaks carefully, “but I can always see my friend back at my house as well.”

And finally, Baekhyun laughs, even if it is more controlled than he heard it with Yoona, “It would be too creepy for me to wait outside your door for you.”

“Didn’t you eavesdrop on me to see when I left my house that once?” Chanyeol says, flicking Baekhyun’s nose playfully, Baekhyun huffs.

“I was desperate.”

“Also, we call it a ‘watch’ on Earth, not a ‘time calculator’.”

Baekhyun shakes his head, unimpressed, “As I said, humans have way too much time to spare. Time calculator is so straightforward and practical. Why is it called a watch? What are you watching?”

“The time?” Chanyeol suggests dryly.

“Oh,” Baekhyun blinks, “then I guess it does make sense. But time calculator is still better.”

Chanyeol sighs.

When Chanyeol pulls the covers up to his chin that night, it’s not because he’s scared or anything, but because he’s finally going to sleep with a full heart.

  
Jongdae stages what he calls an ‘intervention’ on a Saturday night, the same night that Chanyeol’s sixth set up date goes as well as the rest of his life. Chanyeol is still walking out of the shower with his hair dripping and strands sticking all over his face when he hears someone rapping on his door with such ferocity that Chanyeol begins to fear the worst.

Did he fail to pay instalments on money he never borrowed? Did he finally piss his colleague off enough to warrant getting killed by a hitman? Did Baekhyun decide that he was bored again? Who knew?

With a heavy heart, Chanyeol opens the door as little as possible. Not that it really matters, though, when he’s hit in the face by the door as Jongdae whacks it open brutally hard, storming in with a pack of beer and a box of pizza.

“Why,” Jongdae begins dramatically, “are you such a fucking loser, Park Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol closes his door meekly, rubbing his nose where he was hit as he turns around slowly, “Hello to you too, Jongdae.”

“This is serious, Chanyeol. Six times I have set you up with my single and charming girl friends, and six times they told me that you just didn’t seem like the kind of guy they could see a future with.”

It’s not as if he didn’t already know this on some level, but ouch, hearing that from Jongdae actually hurt more than Chanyeol thought it would.

“I don’t know. If I knew why I’m so unattractive, don’t you think I would have tried to solve that issue by now?”

Jongdae tilts his head, considering for a second, “No. Not really. I’ve been telling you about getting rid of that stupid habit you have of dabbing since last year, but I still see you doing it.”

“The dab is forever.” Chanyeol mumbles, moving into the room with a hand still rubbing the sore spot on his nose while the other is messily rubbing the towel on his head against his hair. Jongdae snorts, rolling his eyes as he throws himself on Chanyeol’s bed.

“Anyway, I’ve got beer and I’ve got pizza.” Jongdae says gleefully, “So don’t be too upset about that big fat _failure_ of a date you just had today.”

“Gee, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Chanyeol says dryly, falling next to Jongdae and turning his laptop on.

“Exactly. So anyway, Hawaiian pizza.” Jongdae opens the box with slight difficulty, and the smell that wafts through the air is amazing. Chanyeol closes his eyes and takes a big sniff, just relishing the cheesy smell. For a moment, everything is perfect. And then he opens his eyes and looks at the pizza.

“Aw fucking hell,” Chanyeol groans, lolling his head, “no pineapples. Didn’t we agree on not having any damn pineapples on _our_ pizza a million years ago?”

“Look, I paid for this pizza. It’s mine. I’m doing charity by sharing it with you, and beggars can’t be choosers.” Jongdae replies sharply, moving the box away from Chanyeol and towards his chest with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, fine, _fine_! I’m choosing the movie then.”

Jongdae immediately claps his hands together and closes his eyes tightly, tilting his head to the ceiling as he murmurs just loud enough for Chanyeol to hear, “Please God, let it not be The Winter Soldier again.” then he peeks one eye open before he heaves resignedly, “Fuck me, it’s The Winter Soldier. _Again_.”

“Hey, what’s your problem with this cinematic masterpiece?”

“I don’t have a problem with this movie, I have a problem with _you_. We’ve watched this three times in a row, Chanyeol. Three!” Jongdae holds up three fingers, waving it in front of Chanyeol’s face for emphasis.

“Yeah, so? I don’t see the problem.”

“You’ve basically memorised the entire movie by now.”

“And the problem is?”

Jongdae sighs with a put off expression, whacking the back of Chanyeol’s head with practiced ease, “Chanyeol, get your shit together. Yes, Chris Evans has an _amazing_ ass and Sebastian Stan is _thick_ as hell, but you can’t go around fawning over men in front of your dates.”

“You’re not my date.”

“Thank god for that, really.”

Chanyeol doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response, choosing to take the slice of pizza with the least pineapples and then pick out the disgusting fruit, throwing it like darts onto the box (which Jongdae bitches at him for, but it’s nothing that he hasn’t heard before). They’re in the middle of watching the movie when someone knocks on their door. Jongdae looks to Chanyeol with an arched brow.

“Just ignore it,” Chanyeol says, reaching for another slice of pizza, “probably just some salesman trying to con me of my nonexistent money.”

Jongdae shrugs, turning back to the laptop. But then the person knocks again, and it it happens again, and again, and again.

Chanyeol presses his space bar angrily and crosses the distance between his bed and the door within seconds, “For fucks sake, who the bloody hell is it at this hour?” he grits as he yanks open his door. On hindsight, Chanyeol really regrets not being more careful with opening the door, not because the door could spoil in the near future with the kind of abuse it has taken in recent days, but because of the two men standing behind it.

“Hi Chanyeol.” Baekhyun says loudly, happily, before it crumbles into a hurt pout. A _pout_. “You didn’t say that you were going to have a party.”

Chanyeol slams the door shut just in time to see a glimpse of Baekhyun’s panic, and Sehun’s look of disapproval from behind Baekhyun, standing like a guardian. As he pads across the room back to Jongdae calmly, the resounding click of the door echoes in the quiet room.

“Who was that?” Jongdae asks, amused, “You shut the door pretty quick.”

“No one.” Chanyeol shrugs nonchalantly, reaching for his piece of pizza as he leans back into the pillow fort they created before the movie started. Jongdae shrugs back, pressing the spacebar to continue the movie.

_Knock, knock._

Jongdae sits up straight, looking towards the door.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Jongdae looks back at Chanyeol, who stills under Jongdae’s calculative stare.

_Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock._

“Oh, damn it. Do I really have to do everything myself?” Jongdae cries, throwing his arms up as he crosses the room, wrenching the door open with a particularly irritated look. “ _What_?” Jongdae barks, before he blinks once, and then twice, expression morphing into.. surprise? A pleasant surprise?

“Hi. Are you Chanyeol’s friend?” Baekhyun chirps.

“Sadly.” Jongdae confirms, “Who are you? Are you his friend as well?”

“Yes-” Baekhyun says, “we brought food along too.” and then out of nowhere, Baekhyun produces a bottle of vodka. Jongdae whistles lowly, raising his eyebrows and doing what he calls the ‘Jongdae wiggs’, which was really just a continual wave across his brows. Chanyeol frowns slightly, the eyebrow wave always reminded him of worms wiggling across his friend’s forehead. Chanyeol hates worms.

“That’s not food.” Chanyeol argues weakly.

“Because that’s even better.” Jongdae laughs, opening the door all the way and pushing Chanyeol aside, clearing a path for their 2 newly self-invited guests to enter. Chanyeol scowls behind Jongdae, following his overly-excitedly guests with renewed pessimism.

Jongdae takes out 4 disposable cups and lays it on the floor in front of him as he uncaps the vodka expertly. “Before we begin,” he says as he pours a gratuitous amount of vodka into each cup, “how high are your alcohol tolerances?”

“Very high.” Baekhyun says without hesitation, nodding afterwards as if pleased by his own answer. Sehun shrugs a shoulder without giving a verbal answer.

Jongdae raises a brow as he makes to stand, “Right, I’m gonna go and get the mixers.”

Chanyeol waits for Jongdae to be out of their hearing range before he leans over, hissing at Sehun and Baekhyun. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Partying.” Baekhyun says.

“This is hardly a party. The only kind of party this is, is a pity party.”

Sehun snorts. “Don’t you do that every day?”

“Damn right, it’s a pity party is what it is.” Jongdae agrees, a large bottle of coke in one hand and another pack of beer in the other. He sits down heavily between them, pushing the bottle outwards. “Choose your poison.”

“Wait, can you even drink alcohol?” Chanyeol asks Baekhyun. Baekhyun nods excitedly, which doesn’t do much to convince Chanyeol that he can actually hold his alcohol.

“Yes. I have a very high alcohol tolerance.” Baekhyun winks at them, and Jongdae cackles.

Turns out, Baekhyun does not have a very high alcohol tolerance. In fact, he doesn’t have one at all. A beer can and a half later, he’s talking gibberish and laughing a lot, arms moving as wildly as his eyes.

“Yes, but why are we having this pity party anyway?”

Jongdae is pouring half a cup of coke with just a tiny bit of vodka for Sehun with practiced ease, “To celebrate the consecutive failure of Chanyeol’s dating life.”

“Love life.” Chanyeol corrects.

“There’s no love.”

Alright. Fine.

“Why do you want to go dating so often?” Baekhyun asks, clearly not knowing what he’s talking about. He’s got an Asian flush that’s worse than Chanyeol’s, damn. “Do you like dating?”

“Like it? What, no. I hate dating.”

Baekhyun frowns, poking a finger in Chanyeol’s face and wagging it. “No, no. I’ve seen you with Yoona. You love the attention you get on dates, you hate it when it doesn’t go anywhere.”

Sehun looks unimpressed just by staring with the same blank face, it should be considered a talent with how expressive his unexpressive face can be.

“Makes sense, doesn’t it? Who wants to feel unwanted?”

“Yes, but why does it matter anyway? You don’t even like them as much as you think you do.”

Jongdae raises a curious brow, a silent nod in Baekhyun’s direction to encourage him to go on, so he _does_.

“I mean, from the way it looks, you just want to be with someone, even if you don’t really like them. It feels like you’re desperately seeking out love.” Baekhyun slurs. For how drunk Baekhyun is right now, he is sure hitting a lot closer to home than Chanyeol would like. “Is finding love that important to you?”

“I don’t know, it’s a normal thing to do, okay? To want to find love.”

“Well, maybe you’re looking without really meaning to find anything.”

“What?”

“Maybe you need to stop looking for love where you know it wouldn’t be, and start-” Baekhyun says, voice rising with increasing agitation. As he speaks, his arm swings and knocks over his own beer can, the one he just opened not too long ago in spite of Chanyeol’s protest. The beer can falls over and spills on the old carpet Chanyeol has had ever since he can remember. It’s old but fuck, it’s gold.

“Aw, shit.” Chanyeol gasps, moving quickly to try to salvage his carpet. Jongdae curses briefly before getting up to find some tissues, and Sehun helps them to dry off the beer.

In a way, Chanyeol is thankful that Baekhyun had accidentally spilled the beer, because the conversation was seriously starting to veer into a totally different direction from what a normal pity party conversation would have been. Sehun excuses himself and Baekhyun back to their flat with an apologetic look, bowing a few times sincerely as well.

As soon as the door closes, Jongdae takes a look at Chanyeol, gives him a look that Chanyeol knows all too well.

“Please, just don’t say anything.” Chanyeol pleads lifelessly. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with more bullshit tonight.

Jongdae snaps his mouth shut, worrying his lip between his teeth before he says, “Come on, let’s get that carpet cleaned, I know how sentimental you get about small stuff like this.”

  
It’s each man for himself whenever Kyungsoo walks into the office with his checkered tote bag, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafting behind him.

Kyungsoo prepares little plastic bags with 3 cookies placed neatly in them, wrapped by a small ribbon. It’s a small sampling of what he has to offer for his colleagues, and many of them crowd him into a corner in order to get a bag because it’s just that good. It’s crunchy around the edges and soft and moist in the middle, the only drawback is not being able to eat them warm and fresh out of the oven, but beggars can’t be choosers.

The best part of it is that Chanyeol never has to worry about trying to get a bag for himself, because Kyungsoo always prepares a special container for him. It’s not a big container, but it’s a cute circular one big enough for at least 10 pieces, which is marginally more than what other people have to fight for.

Kyungsoo walks to Chanyeol’s desk, digging deeply into his almost empty bag and fishing out the same green container he always gives to Chanyeol. With a grateful grin, Chanyeol accepts the box and opens it immediately, popping one into his mouth without so much as glancing at it. He can’t help the moans of bliss that escape from his parted lips, eyes fluttering shut as the flavours melt in his mouth. Chanyeol knows that he looks like he’s having an orgasm- he’s been told countless of times- but he doesn’t care. Sometimes he thinks he could _actually_ orgasm to the godlike taste of Kyungsoo’s cookies.

“Chocolate chips?” Chanyeol guesses with a full mouth. Kyungsoo looks mildly disgusted before he walks back to his desk.

“Sea salted chocolate chip cookies.” Kyungsoo corrects, then he asks, slightly worried, “Did the taste of the salt not come through?”

“Oh, no, it did. I just thought it was because you added too much salt this time.”

Kyungsoo smiles in relief, folding his empty tote bag and tucking it away in the drawers of his workstation. “So how do you like it?”

“It’s great, it’s amazing, Kyungsoo. I thought that was obvious. Your baking talent is unparalleled, you should really consider publishing a book.”

“It’s not _that_ good.” Kyungsoo says, shyly looking down at his hands with a little upward tug on the corner of his lips- the one that Chanyeol has come to know as Kyungsoo being really flattered, but not wanting to let it show.

“It is, even if you don’t think so.” Chanyeol smiles gently. Kyungsoo looks stunned for a fleeting second before he mirrors the soft look on Chanyeol’s face, something he rarely does at all but seems to do the most with Chanyeol.

“Anyway, are you up for dinner tonight?” Kyungsoo asks, changing the topic rather quickly. Chanyeol pauses, touching his lips in thought before he shakes his head.

“Nah, I’ve got no plans for tonight. What do you want to eat?”

“I was thinking of trying the new ramen bar a few blocks from my place, if you don’t mind the commute.”

And Chanyeol doesn’t. It’s not the first time that he’s eaten around Kyungsoo’s quaint apartment, and it’s certainly not the first time that he’s _been_ in said apartment with a glass of wine in hands, laughter filling the usually quiet place.

Kyungsoo smiles over his glass as he swirls the maroon liquid, watching it slosh around disinterestedly as Chanyeol talks about the recent office drama that happened.

“And then she just threw so much shade at him during the presentation itself, you should’ve seen his face. He was so pissed but he couldn’t say or do anything because the big boss was just there. Holy shit, I don’t think that I’ll ever see such drama in a meeting again. Ever.” Chanyeol cackles, pulling his own glass of wine nearer once he mellows down.

Kyungsoo chuckles a bit, taking a quick sip, “You know that I’m not interested in all these office politics the way you are. It’s funny to hear it from someone else but I think that actually being there would be painful.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol agrees easily, feeling warmer and a little bit lighter, “you’re not that kind of person. But that’s what I like about you- you’re not interested in other people’s matters, but you care deeply about those you care for.”

“There’s no point in caring for people who don’t matter. All it does is make you tired and drained.”

“‘People who don’t matter’?”

“Yeah. People who I don’t really talk to, or people I don’t feel are important enough for me to keep asking after. That’s why I don’t really attend many office parties either. When I decide on whether or not to attend an event or spend time with someone, I have to weigh my happiness. Will I be happier being alone or by spending time with them? If I’m less happy being with them, then what’s the point of forcing myself to do it? Time and energy are limited resources, I have to choose wisely.”

Chanyeol furrows his brows as he thinks about it, “But what if you’re important to them? Wouldn’t it be unfair to them?”

“It’s about taking care of yourself, first.” Kyungsoo shrugs, “You have to take care of yourself before you can start to care for others.”

There’s something about Kyungsoo’s words that strike Chanyeol in an unsettling way that makes him shift in his chair, preferring to drink the cool wine than to try and continue the conversation that has steered into unfamiliar territory. It’s not that he disagrees with what Kyungsoo has said. In fact, he can agree with almost everything that Kyungsoo has said. Kyungsoo laid out his argument clearly, and it makes sense now why his friend politely declined going for many of their office outings after work. But Chanyeol can’t bring himself to agree with always weighing his own happiness first, even at the cost of someone else’s. It just didn’t feel right to do that to someone else who thought well of you.

Lost in his thoughts, Chanyeol barely slots his key into his door before Sehun’s door opens. Baekhyun leans out, looking at Chanyeol with a mix of curiosity and relief.

“You’re back.” Baekhyun says. Chanyeol nods, unfocused.

“I’m back.” he says, “Were you waiting?”

“Sehun isn’t back yet, so I was bored.” Baekhyun whines, closing the door before padding over to Chanyeol. Chanyeol sighs, pushing his door open for Baekhyun to enter first.

Chanyeol goes over to the kitchen to pour them each a cup of water before he carries it to his bed, where Baekhyun has made himself comfortable on. Baekhyun is on his stomach, resting his chin on his arms while lifting his legs up and down.

“Here, drink some water.” Chanyeol says, handing Baekhyun a plastic Rilakkuma cup with two handles in place of its ears. Baekhyun takes it happily, rolling over to make space for Chanyeol next to him.

Chanyeol sits down heavily, drinking the water quickly as a thought occurs to him. Kyungsoo’s biscuits are still in his bag. Chanyeol walks over to his bag on the floor, digging out the petite container before walking back to his bed.

He opens the container, giving it a little shake as he pushes it near Baekhyun’s face. “Do you want to try some of the best cookies you’ll ever eat?”

“Cookies?” Baekhyun cocks his head to the side, confused.

“These are cookies. They’re baked using different ingredients like butter, eggs, flour, and other things. These cookies are sea salted chocolate chip cookies.” Chanyeol explains, but Baekhyun looks even more befuddled than ever, so he shakes the container in his palm again amusedly, “Just try one.”

Baekhyun’s gaze shuffles between the cookies and Chanyeol before he hesitantly takes a small piece, nervously putting it between his teeth and chewing on it. Chanyeol watches with satisfaction as Baekhyun’s eyes light up not long after, chewing the biscuit with renewed vigour as he reaches out for another piece. And then another. And then another.

As Chanyeol sees the container grow emptier, there’s a part of him that wants to take one piece for himself because Kyungsoo baked and packed this for _him_. But then Baekhyun is eating like a starved man in front of him, and Kyungsoo would probably bake again soon, so Chanyeol relinquishes the thought.

After the last piece is gone, Baekhyun throws himself back on the bed, rubbing his stomach with a cat-like smile. “That was delicious.” he sighs dreamily.

“Yeah. You ate them all really fast.” Chanyeol comments, closing the container and kicking it in the direction of his bag, “Were you hungry?”

“Yeah, I didn’t eat dinner.”

“You didn’t eat dinner?” Chanyeol repeats, whipping his head towards Baekhyun, “Why not?”

“Because I was waiting for you to finish work, but then you never came back until you did.” Baekhyun says easily, eyes darting to meet Chanyeol’s shocked ones, “Where did you go, anyway?”

“I went for dinner.. with Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol replies as guilt and surprisingly, shame, washes through his body.

“A date?” Baekhyun asks with a line forming between his brows. Chanyeol shakes his head.

“No. Kyungsoo is my friend, we went for dinner together. It wasn’t a date or anything.”

Baekhyun rolls onto his stomach again, watching Chanyeol with a serious look on his face. “It’s peculiar how you define what a date is and what isn’t. You told me before that a date is ‘when people who like each other go out to get to know the other better’, and going by this definition it would mean that you just went on a date with Kyungsoo. How is it different?”

“We don’t like each other in that way.” Chanyeol answers, uncrossing his legs stiffly.

“So there are different kinds of likes?”

“Yeah. There is the usual like between friends, that’s purely platonic. And then there’s _like_ like, that’s when you start to feel some romantic attraction and feelings.” Chanyeol lists, pointing a finger as he does, “And I guess the top of the triangle is where love is.”

“So you go on dates to find if you are compatible with each other? To see if you _like_ like that person?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s it.” Chanyeol confirms.

“So how do you know if that person is the right person for you?”

Chanyeol frowns. He hadn’t actually thought of that. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t even gotten to the stage of like liking someone yet, so jumping the gun and thinking about such things isn’t something he does. “I don’t know actually. But I think we will be able to tell if they’re the one? I mean, I hope we can, if not I’m pretty screwed.”

Baekhyun shakes his head bemusedly, torn between wanting to laugh and cry. “It’s too complicated. Human culture is difficult to understand, especially with regards to courtship.”

“Then how does Exo do it?”

“All we need is to look at each other. And then we know if they’re the one for us.”

“But how do you know?”

Baekhyun fixes him a look that shoots down any potential argument between them, “We just know.” he insists.

“Okay.” Chanyeol says in what he hopes is a placating way. He doesn’t want to upset Baekhyun, but he can’t deny that he was skeptical of how Exo can know who their right person is with only one look. How does that even work? Wouldn’t they need to know other important things, such as the person’s habits and personality, their family and life in general?

But again, he doesn’t want this to escalate further. Chanyeol nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Are you still hungry?” he asks quietly, “I can fix you something to eat if you want.”

“Can you make more of those cookies?”

Chanyeol shakes his head regretfully, “Kyungsoo baked those cookies. I can get the recipe from him and bake it for you another day, if you’d like, but it won’t be possible to do it by tonight.”

“Let’s bake them together.” Baekhyun suggests.

Chanyeol blinks, he did not expect Baekhyun to say that, but well, what could go wrong, right?

“Sure.” Chanyeol nods, starting to smile as Baekhyun does, “Let’s do it together.”

  
As it turns out, a lot of things could go wrong.

It’s not something that Chanyeol notices immediately. As he labels each bowl and fills them nicely with the required amounts of each ingredient, Baekhyun stands by his side with his mouth in an ‘o’ shape, silently marvelling at the colours and simple looking food that would eventually come to make something entirely different. Sometimes, Baekhyun would tap on Chanyeol’s shoulder to ask a question about what this was supposed to do, or why that was so powdery.

“Right, so this is sugar and that is salt. They look very similar, but they taste very different. Here, try it. Just a small bit.” Chanyeol says, bringing two small containers of each to Baekhyun. Baekhyun dips two fingers into each box and licks them one by one, nodding in agreement.

“I like this one.” Baekhyun says, nodding towards the salt. Chanyeol chuckles, turning to place the container on the counter besides the melting slab of butter.

“I didn’t expect you to be so salty.” Chanyeol murmurs to himself. When he catches the perplexed look on Baekhyun’s face, Chanyeol adds, “It’s a kind of slang we use, meaning something like, uh, bitter? If I say that I’m salty about something, it really just means that I’m bitter over something.”

“So why don’t you just say that you’re bitter about something? Why do you use a taste to describe another taste to describe a feeling?” Baekhyun asks, looking genuinely perplexed.

Chanyeol opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. He honestly doesn’t have an answer. “Look, sometimes in life you’re not going to understand why some things are the way they are, but we just go with the flow. It’s like wondering why Apple sells gadgets and not food; or wondering how the people who discovered rice even thought of taking these small grains into water and steaming it over fire. We don’t know, we just use it.”

Baekhyun nods really slowly, trying to accept it even if he doesn’t understand it completely. “Human language is so complex. You guys have so many different languages on this small planet, and live such different lifestyles.”

“It is pretty diverse, but that’s where the beauty is too.” Chanyeol replies, beginning to throw in all the ingredients into a big plastic bowl, “All of us coexisting in the same space with such different cultures. Quite amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. On Exoplanet we speak only one language, and we have a homogenous culture.”

“What is the name of your language?”

“We don’t have a name for it, and we do not speak it either.” Baekhyun smiles fondly, looking distantly out of the window, “It’s hard to explain it to you using only words, so I will demonstrate it to you.”

At first, Chanyeol wonders what Baekhyun means, but then Baekhyun opens his mouth and starts _singing_ , and god, it’s beautiful. It’s more than beautiful- it’s ethereal. It’s steady and clear, every note distinctly different yet coming together to form a beautiful wave.

Chanyeol stares at Baekhyun long after he’s done, making the smaller fidget. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“That was beautiful.” Chanyeol breathes out, unable to stop staring, “I didn’t know that you could sing like that.”

“Well, it’s not really singing..” Baekhyun says bashfully.

“But it sounded exactly like singing. It was so pleasing to listen to. What did you say?”

Baekhyun smiles, soft and gentle, “I said your name in my language.”

“You said my name?” Chanyeol asks excitedly, “Can you repeat that?”

So Baekhyun does. It starts with a low note that transitions smoothly into a higher one, like water flowing from a stream into a river, there’s no discontinuity. There’s a special echo in his voice as well, making every syllable longer and overlapping into the next, and it haunts Chanyeol long after the last note has ended.

“You look really impressed.” Baekhyun says, breaking the long silence. Chanyeol nods dumbly, not knowing what else there was to say.

“I _am_ impressed. I can’t imagine how beautiful it must be on your planet, hearing this every other day..” Chanyeol wonders aloud, “You could be an opera singer over here and just be talking throughout the entire performance and everyone would be none the wiser, really.”

Baekhyun looks down, toeing at the gap between the kitchen floor tiles trying to bite back a smile, “You really know how to flatter a man, don’t you?”

“I don’t think it can be called flattering, I’m just telling you what I really think.”

“You really mean it?”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol says honestly, “I do.”

They smile at each other for what feels like a really long time to Chanyeol, but must have been merely seconds. It wasn’t awkward- as Chanyeol deemed every interaction he has ever had with Baekhyun prior to this- but something like melting ice, moving away from impersonal conversations into something that flows from the inside. Not that he was complaining, on the contrary, Chanyeol was beginning to find some fun in being around Baekhyun.

Baekhyun walks closer to Chanyeol, peering down into the big bowl of unmixed ingredients with renewed curiosity.

“So what do we do now?” Baekhyun asks. Chanyeol steps aside, making space for Baekhyun to lean in as he begins to stir the ingredients together.

“Now we just have to mix everything nicely, and then once we’re done we can start to bake our cookies. This is quite a painful task, so we'll need to put in more strength when we mix them together.” Chanyeol smiles. Baekhyun nods enthusiastically.

Chanyeol finds out the hard way that Baekhyun’s looks could fool people, because even _he_ was fooled by it. Baekhyun is a lot stronger than he looks, which shouldn’t be surprising given that Baekhyun was fighting in some intergalactic battle shortly before his descent to Earth. But it always slips Chanyeol’s mind that Baekhyun was a grown ass man, much less one with enough strength to break his spatula the first time he tries to stir the mixture together.

Chanyeol stares- blatantly stares- at the broken spatula, constantly looking back and forth at the handle in Baekhyun’s hand and the rest of it sticking out of the still clumpy mixture. It kind of resembled a headstone in a mountain of flour and butter instead of soil.

“Oops.” Baekhyun laughs sheepishly, turning to meet Chanyeol’s stare, “Too much strength?”

“A little.”

Baekhyun deflates, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I just forgot that you’re kinda.. much stronger than me.” Chanyeol shrugs it off, going off to find that big metal spoon he usually used to cook soup and sometimes, eat ice cream from the tub with. After successfully locating the spoon, he scraps off the sticky mix from the spatula before handing it over to Baekhyun. “Here. Just use your normal-” then thinking better of it, “-or use less strength, actually.”

Baekhyun nods again, taking over from Chanyeol gleefully.

Thankfully, nothing else happens until after they have rolled the nice and thick mixture into little balls and spaced them out evenly on the metal tray lined with baking paper, which fascinated Baekhyun a lot and exasperated Chanyeol even more.

Closing the oven with a relieved sigh, Chanyeol looks at the wall clock he otherwise never looks at. “Okay, so we’ll have to check on these babies in an hour. Which would be 4pm.”

“They’re not babies, they’re cookies.” Baekhyun frowns. “Babies are newborn human offsprings, aren’t they?”

Chanyeol sighs again, but for an entirely different reason. “It’s also used as a term of affection, Baekhyun. We use it for things we love, or things we spend a lot of time and effort slaving over. Either works fine.”

“Oh..” Baekhyun says, nodding with conviction and a thumbs up, “I got it.”

Chanyeol doesn’t believe him.

“Okay, so I’ll just wash up over here. Maybe you can go and watch TV or something.” Chanyeol suggests, rolling up his sleeves and getting ready some tissues to wipe off the residuals from the utensils, but then Baekhyun shoots forward, picking up that huge metal spoon with vigour.

“Cleaning up? I know how to do it, I’ve seen Sehun do it many times before!” Baekhyun beams, right before he positions that spoon and cranks the water up to the max. And then Chanyeol watches the catastrophe unfold in a spectacularly disastrous way. First, the water hits onto the concave part of the spoon, bouncing off the surface with such force and dispersing in mid-air into all directions, soaking everything within the general vicinity of the kitchen sink in greasy water.

Baekhyun screams, turning off the tap as soon as he realised what just happened, but the damage is done by then.

Chanyeol looks at the wet countertop, then at the clean cups and utensils from last night’s dinner hanging on the rack nearby, and then at the floor where there were small puddles of water, and finally at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun just stands there with the spoon still in his hand, looking frozen in shock. As if sensing Chanyeol’s stare, he turns around slowly with fear in his glistening eyes. Baekhyun was expecting Chanyeol to yell at him, Chanyeol could see that much. To be fair, a part of Chanyeol did want to yell at him because now he would have to clean up the kitchen in addition to all the other cutlery used to prepare the cookies, and Chanyeol was really, really tired. He ended work late last night and rushed out early in the morning to buy all the ingredients they would need to bake the cookies, and all he wanted was to fall onto his bed and sleep.

But then he notices the way that Baekhyun’s eyes start to glisten more and more obviously, the way Baekhyun remains so quiet and stoic, and he realises that he doesn’t want to be angry at Baekhyun anymore. The poor boy was already beating himself up for it, there was really no need for Chanyeol to add on to it.

Dragging his feet carefully along the drier parts of the kitchen so he’s right in front of Baekhyun, Chanyeol sighs, long and exhausted just before he puts his hands on his hips. Baekhyun takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the scolding that was sure to come.

“Well, we have slightly less than an hour to get this place cleaned up.”

Baekhyun’s head whips up, waiting a moment before he cautiously asks, “What?”

“The cookies will be done in about an hour, so I’d really like to finish cleaning this place before then.”

Baekhyun nods slowly, guilt-ridden. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles, but in the quiet of the house it is loud and clear. Chanyeol sighs again, wishing it could get rid of the lethargy that he felt in the depths of his soul. He ruffled Baekhyun’s hair as gently as he could, trying to show Baekhyun that he wasn’t angry; upset, yes, but not angry.

“I know you are.” Chanyeol replies, “But I guess this place needed cleaning anyway. Come on, I’ll teach you how to clean up so you’ll just have to follow my instructions.”

It takes a while to start cleaning up, but they work fast and thoroughly. Baekhyun does what he’s told obediently and seriously, and if Chanyeol thought that Baekhyun stirring the mixture was a force to be reckoned with, he was even more fearful of a guilt-ridden Baekhyun trying to make up for his mistakes. With the force he used to wipe down the floor and kitchen counter, Chanyeol did feel slightly bad for the inanimate furniture.

“So, see, I like to wipe away all the remaining cookie batter from the cutlery with tissue so that it doesn’t dirty my sink, or clog it- which it did once.” Chanyeol says, demonstrating how to efficiently and effective get rid of the leftover batter with a single piece of tissue. “And then I’ll throw all these spoons and forks into this big bowl, pour some detergent in and soak it for awhile. My mother said this makes it easier to clean later on, I just follow what she says.”

Baekhyun nods again, silently. He’s still resolutely not making any eye contact with Chanyeol. Chanyeol lets go of the spoon, listening to it rattle in the bowl a second later. “Baekhyun, it’s okay. You made a mistake. I’m not angry at you.”

“But you’re not happy with me, either.”

“That’s not true. I mean, it’s half true. I was upset with you, but we’re already done cleaning up the kitchen, so it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Baekhyun says again, even softer this time. They were talking about the cleaning up, yet Chanyeol feels as if Baekhyun was apologising for other things as well.

“What for?” he tries.

“I don’t know- everything? I just think that you could have been spending your Saturday doing other things instead of teaching me how to do things like baking cookies, or washing the dishes.” a pause, “I feel sorry that you have to spend time with me.” Baekhyun finishes with a shaky voice.

 _Fuck_ , Chanyeol thinks, how does he even reply to something like this?

Baekhyun looks up from between his messy bangs, shoulders sagging as he mistakes Chanyeol’s reticence for agreement. Chanyeol quickly shakes his head, clapping Baekhyun’s shoulders. “No, why do you say things like that?” he frowns, “I don’t feel sorry for myself, so why should you? I mean, I haven’t baked for a long time either, so baking with you isn’t something I mind doing. It was fun, I got to know you better too. I enjoyed myself, even with the mess that happened, it was still a fun day.”

Baekhyun searches Chanyeol’s face for any signs of lying, only falling pliant when he sees none. “I enjoyed myself too.”

And then the smallest smiles finally forms on Baekhyun’s face, and it is the most relief Chanyeol’s felt all day.

“Good.” he says.

When the cookies were done, Chanyeol and Baekhyun crowded around the metal tray, taking small bites of the edges as soon as they could hold one without burning their fingers. And the taste was, it was, well.

Baekhyun chokes on it, coughing out the half chewed bits while Chanyeol blanches, “This is shit.” he curses, glaring at the cookies as if it personally offended him, because it sure felt that way. “Why is it such shit?”

Chanyeol goes over the recipe in his head. The biscuit was way too salty, so much so that it overwhelmed the taste of the chocolate chips and butter. But, why?

_“I like this one.” Baekhyun says, nodding towards the salt._

Chanyeol looks between Baekhyun and the innocent biscuit between his fingers, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Baekhyun.”

“Yes?”

“Did you happen to add anything into the mix while I wasn’t looking?”

Baekhyun swallows thickly, laughing weakly after he does, “Maybe?”

“You didn’t happen to add salt, did you?”

More nervous laughter, “Maybe?”

Chanyeol sighs, throwing the biscuit back on the metal tray. “Baekhyun, we have a recipe.”

“But the salt tasted really good.” Baekhyun sulks.

“In small amounts, yes, but this is just- just how _much_ did you add?”

“You really don’t want to know.”

Chanyeol could either cry or laugh when he checks his salt container and finds a substantial amount of it gone, but he chooses to toss the entire batch of cookies into the bin with cracked eggshells and empty wrappers, picking up his phone for pizza.

“Um, hi, yes, I’d like a regular hawaiian pizza, without pineapple. Please, don’t give me any pineapples. Really, none of that. Yes.” Chanyeol speaks into the phone, strolling back and forth in his kitchen before he catches sight of Baekhyun lounging casually on his bed, watching the episode of Friends that Chanyeol had been watching last week. “Um, actually, make that a large pizza. Yeah, still no pineapples, please. Nope, no drinks either.”

Ending the call shortly after, Chanyeol throws himself on the bed, careful not to crush Baekhyun’s arm lest he spend another night sewing another arm again.

Baekhyun side-glances at him, “What’s a pedicure?”

“It’s like.. making your fingernails pretty.” Chanyeol stretches his fingers, pointing to each nail as he continues, “We have professionals who will treat your fingernails so that they look healthy and have pretty designs.”

“So what’s a french tip?”

“It’s when only the white parts of your nails is painted, if I remember correctly. So it’ll be pink and then coloured at the tip. Well, you don’t actually need to get a pedicure to have pretty nails, you can do it yourself.”

Baekhyun frowns in confusion. “Why would humans want to get a pedicure?”

Chanyeol pauses, scratching his chin lightly and finding that he forgot to shave that morning, damn. “That’s a good question, but maybe you’d like to ask Chandler why he gets pedicures.”

Baekhyun turns back to the laptop with the frown still on his face, “And why is he counting in Mississippi?”

“Because he’s Ross, man. No one ever knows what he’s doing.”

Baekhyun nods, seemingly satisfied with that answer at least. Chanyeol squeezes himself on the remaining space on the bed, careful to leave a decent amount of space between him and Baekhyun so that their thighs and arms don’t touch. Getting the message, Baekhyun scoots closer to the wall, leaving more space for Chanyeol to get comfortable with. The both of them fall into a relaxed silence, with Chanyeol laughing at the jokes and Baekhyun asking about a pop culture reference or some other human thing every now and then. Even if it’s only the first time, Chanyeol doesn’t find a shred of discomfort in him. Everything about the moment was warm and inviting, and he relishes in the freedom that comes along with it.

Their little bubble of privacy was broken only by the sudden knocks on his door.

“Oh,” Chanyeol utters, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed with reluctance, “must be the pizza.”

“Pizza?” Baekhyun echoes, “The bread that we ate the other time?”

Chanyeol makes a small strangled noise, torn between wanting to argue that pizza is not bread, because pizza is _pizza_ and bread is _bread_ , but he decides against it because Baekhyun thought that chocolate and strawberry tasted the same anyway.

As it turns out, not even a large pizza is enough to satiate Baekhyun’s appetite. By the time that Chanyeol reaches for his third slice, he finds his fingers meeting cardboard where, ideally, the pizza should have been. He takes a quick glance down, frowns, then turns to look at Baekhyun who is happily sucking on his fingertips.

“What?” Baekhyun says with his thumb between his lips, shiny with alien spit and oil and other substances that Chanyeol doesn’t want to think of.

“I only ate 2 slices!” Chanyeol whines rather pathetically.

“Were you.. not supposed to eat 2 slices?”

“There were 10. You ate 4 times what I ate.”

Baekhyun folds his arms across his chest indignantly, “To be fair, you didn’t say how many slices each of us was limited to.”

Chanyeol opens his mouth, wanting to protesting that it only makes sense to share half each. But then he remembers the way that Baekhyun wolfed down Kyungsoo’s cookies because he hadn’t eaten dinner, and god knows how irregular Baekhyun’s meals are? Baekhyun wasn’t the kind to go around asking for help just because he didn't want to be a nuisance, so he probably went hungry more often than not, without making a single noise of complaint. So Chanyeol shuts his mouth and gives in to Baekhyun, pushing the little cinnamon sticks towards Baekhyun with an apologetic expression.

And, well, the blinding smile that Baekhyun gives Chanyeol with a piece of cinnamon stick in between his teeth is somehow enough for him to tolerate his growling stomach as he turns off the light for the both of them that night, with Baekhyun curled up in a fetal position on his bed. It’s a pleasant warmth spreading in his belly down to the tips of his toes, like a cloud of happiness expanding in his chest when he knows that he took care of his friend.

Then a thought occurs to him- he does actually care quite a bit for the smaller man. Musing to himself quietly, Chanyeol wonders from when did his initial annoyance with Baekhyun turn into something more fond, more protective? To be honest with himself, Chanyeol wouldn’t mind seeing Baekhyun after work now, and that says a lot seeing as how he absolutely loathed it a few weeks ago. Maybe it was in his smile that Chanyeol managed to find some happiness in, or maybe it was in the excited way that Baekhyun bounced around when the tasks were trivial. Everything about Baekhyun screamed enthusiasm, and maybe that was why Chanyeol found himself growing attached to Baekhyun, like a fly attracted to the light in the night.

Chanyeol takes out his sleeping bag and rolls it out on the floor next to his bed, facing Baekhyun and watching his steady rise and fall of his chest as a kind of lullaby to sleep.

Chanyeol really shouldn’t be surprised with weird looking people loitering around him anymore, not after he sewed Baekhyun’s arm back with his sewing kit or after the stalking incidents that happened after. Maybe especially not after finding out that he had aliens living next door to him. That had to be the new benchmark for weird, or something. But Chanyeol- while not a man of surprises- is always surprised by the events that unfold. And well, the man loitering around his door isn’t weird looking, per se. He’s just suspiciously lurking around, rubbing his hands together in a nervous manner.

Gripping his box of kimchi fried rice tighter to his body, Chanyeol approaches the strange man with the smile he usually reserves for strangers or the people he dislikes (in secret, of course), “Hello, you look lost. Can I help you?”

The man startles, wide eyed and confused. “啊! 请问, 你认不认识吴世勋? 或者卞白贤?”

The smile turns stale on his face. Shaking his head slightly, Chanyeol mutters, “What.”

“为什么我们的语言有一点不同?” the man grumbles to himself, scratching his head as he does.

 _What_?

The man frowns to himself, turning around and whipping out a small hexagonal shaped box. That’s new, Chanyeol thinks, peering over the man’s broad shoulders and watching him fiddle with it before spinning around, tucking the box into the back pocket of his really skinny jeans conspicuously.

“Hello, I am a visitor.” he says this time, looking pleasantly surprised by the words that tumble out of his mouth like piles of bricks out of a circular manhole. Chanyeol blinks, _that’s_ new. “I am looking for Oh Sehun and Byun Baekhyun. Do you know which unit they live in?”

Oh, Sehun and Baekhyun. This guy must be from Exoplanet as well. That explains all the weirdness- from the hanging around suspiciously to the weird talking.

Chanyeol nods towards the last door in the row, “They’re my neighbours. Have you tried knocking on the door yet?”

The man frowns as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. He quickly walks over to the door and knocks with effort- similar to the way Chanyeol harassed Sehun that fateful night where he found out the truth- but there was no response.

Chanyeol glances at the gradually darkening sky outside, and the relatively thin layers the man was wearing. “I don’t think they’re in at the moment, so would you like to come inside my house while waiting for them?”

The man stares blankly before it clicks in his head- Chanyeol can see the way his eyes lights up at the suggestion. “Yes, please.” he says.

Well, he’s courteous. That has to count for something, at least.

With a casual shrug, Chanyeol opens his door for the man to enter, leaving it slightly ajar so that he could tell when Baekhyun and Sehun returned. Chanyeol pulls out his foldable chair in his kitchen for the man, who sits down gratefully and studies his room with an expression akin to awe. Chanyeol cracks a small smile at that- every Exo being he has met so far seems to be taken by the little things on Earth, when they probably have even more advanced stuff on Exoplanet. It’s endearing.

Chanyeol goes to start the water, taking out a packet of 3-in-1 coffee and hot chocolate before he stills, “Hey.” Chanyeol calls out, poking his head out of the kitchen. The stranger turns around in his seat, raising a curious brow. “What do you prefer? Hot chocolate? Tea? Coffee? Water?”

The man tilts his head to the side, “What?”

“Would you like a drink?” Chanyeol asks, then as an afterthought, “Baekhyun always gets a hot chocolate.”

At the mention of Baekhyun’s name, the man relaxes and gives a lazy smile, “I’ll have whatever Baekhyun usually has.”

Chanyeol nods, going back to making them each a drink and musing about how strange his life has gotten ever since he met Sehun and Baekhyun. Since when did he invite strangers into his house, much less aliens? Seriously, he never imagined asking an alien for their drink preference, ever.

But here he is, walking out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs in his hands, carefully maneuvering so he doesn’t bump into the wandering man or any of his ratty furniture.

“Here,” Chanyeol says, sliding the mug of hot chocolate onto his table and turning it so that it would be easy for the man to grip the handle, “be careful, it’s hot.”

The man chuckles, “Hot chocolate being hot, what a surprise.”

Chanyeol freezes. Did the man just sass him in his own house?

Chanyeol gapes as the man winks playfully over his mug, blowing on the surface before taking a cautious sip. It’s in moments like these that Chanyeol wishes he had half of Jongdae’s wit, or maybe Kyungsoo’s stern look so he could say something in his defense, instead of keeping quiet like this. Maybe he could try growing his brows to try and achieve the Kyungsoo effect, though he doubts that he could pull a Kyungsoo even with a much thicker set of eyebrows.

“Who are you, anyway?” Chanyeol asks somewhat childishly, “I’m assuming that you're from Exoplanet as well, since you asked for Baekhyun and Sehun.”

The man’s playful look immediately changes into a panicked one. He moves uncomfortably close to Chanyeol, putting their faces mere centimetres apart. “You _know_?” he whispers gravely.

Chanyeol leans as far back as he can, trying to put as much distance between them as he could without falling backwards, “Uh, yeah. Baekhyun told me.”

“Huh. That’s strange,” the man wonders aloud, “Baekhyun hardly trusts new people he meets.” rubbing his chin as he draws away, his eyes wander to Chanyeol, “What did you do to gain his trust like this?”

“I, um, reattached his arm to his body?”

“Oh, so _you_ are Chanyeol.” the man says, snapping his fingers as recognition flitters across his eyes.

“Yes, Chanyeol. That would be me. Why? Did they tell you anything about me?”

The man laughs loudly, eyes shutting tightly as he claps his hands together. Well, shit.

“What did they say about me?” Chanyeol asks.

“Oh, Chanyeol, a gentleman never kisses and tells.” the man says, trying to stifle his laughter.

“You didn’t kiss anyone.” Chanyeol points out.

“Yet.”

“What-”

“Yixing!” the door slams open, revealing an excited Baekhyun and pleased Sehun on the other side. The man- Yixing, Chanyeol supposes- opens his arms just in time to catch the bundle that was Baekhyun, making a mad dash towards him. The two men embrace each other tightly, snuggling a little bit and making random sounds of happiness. Chanyeol even thought he heard a purr somewhere, but he prefers to chalk _that_ up to his imagination.

Sehun strides across the room in a cool manner, waiting for Baekhyun to break away before he gives Yixing a long hug of his own. It might not have been as showy as Baekhyun’s, but Chanyeol can see the familiarity and affection in there.

“Baekhyun, Sehun,” Yixing says tenderly, ruffling Baekhyun’s hair for good measure, “I missed you guys so much! It’s been so long since we last met.”

“Yeah, you took so long to arrive. What happened?” Sehun asks, slightly worried.

“Oh, the usual. I couldn’t get Jongin’s help because Junmyeon said he was needed for more important matters, so I had to take the egg here. I nearly got intercepted a few times on the way, but all is well.” Yixing explains. Sehun and Baekhyun nod in understanding. “But guys, you told me that this was China. Why did you trick me?” Yixing is looking a bit sad now, kind of like the way Baekhyun pouts when he doesn’t get something he wants.

“Sehun said that it’ll be fun.” Baekhyun says. Sehun shrugs indifferently.

“Why am I not surprised?” Yixing sighs, folding up his sleeves, “Anyway, back to business. Let’s see that arm, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun flinches away, eyes going back between Chanyeol and Yixing. Chanyeol’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “What arm?”

“The arm you attached back. You said you attached it, didn’t you?” Yixing clarifies with confusion laced in his words.

“Not here.” Baekhyun says stiffly.

“Why not? What’s wrong with your arm?” Chanyeol frowns, moving forward to grab Baekhyun. But his action was too rough, and the moment that his hands curl around Baekhyun’s arm, Chanyeol’s eyes widens. Baekhyun’s arm was swollen, it was badly swollen.

Baekhyun yanks his arm away with a loud cry, causing the both of them to lose their balance and tumble on the floor in a mess of limbs. There’s a dull pain shooting up from his knee where Chanyeol suspects a bruise will form later on, but his attention is focused on Baekhyun. The smaller was next to him, cradling his injured arm to his chest with a wince. And then Chanyeol realises that shit, he didn’t mean to hurt Baekhyun.

“I am so sorry.” Chanyeol says quickly, the words feel like putty on his tongue. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” Baekhyun says passively, “Well, I guess there’s no point trying to hide it anymore.”

Chanyeol watches with horror as Baekhyun takes off his long coat, revealing a badly swollen arm with ugly purpling skin where the black threads meet skin. It looks infected, and Chanyeol feels sick just by looking at it. He can’t imagine how much pain it must have caused Baekhyun.

“The needle wasn’t sterilised,” Baekhyun explains, “it infected the wound.”

There’s a long pause where Chanyeol can’t bring himself to look at anyone under the overwhelming guilt he feels. He caused this. All this time he thought that he saved Baekhyun, but he only inflicted a long-lasting pain on his friend.

“H-How long?” Chanyeol stammers out at last.

“The day after.” Baekhyun admits, pursing his lips together as he watches the guilt settle on Chanyeol’s face.

It’s been weeks since they met. Baekhyun has endured the pain for weeks? Not once did Baekhyun ever hint that he was in pain, he never showed any signs of it. Not when they were drinking vodka, not when he waited for Chanyeol in the snow, not when they were baking and cleaning up the kitchen. And Baekhyun was the one who powered through most of the cleaning too..

Fuck.

Chanyeol sighs heavily, combing a hand through his messy hair. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me, Baekhyun? It’s been so long, why did you keep quiet about it?”

Baekhyun averts his gaze, “Because I knew you’d blame yourself. But it wasn’t your fault. You were saving my life- preventing me from bleeding out- this was beyond your control.”

“But I should have known.”

“Maybe.” Sehun interrupts, “But what’s done is done. Besides, that’s why Yixing is here.”

Now it’s Chanyeol’s turn to be confused, “Why are you here?” he asks Yixing. Yixing offers him a patient smile.

“I’m here to heal Baekhyun.” he answers simply, wiggling his fingers. Chanyeol tries his best not to look skeptical, but he can’t help it. Hearing about having powers was one thing, but actually seeing it was a totally different thing. Nevertheless, Chanyeol steps aside to make space for Yixing to work his magic.

Yixing grimaces as he takes a closer look at Baekhyun’s arm, “This might take awhile.”

Baekhyun nods, and that is all Yixing needs to start.. whatever he was going to do. Yixing moves both his hands over the stitches, nodding to Baekhyun once before he focuses back on the wound. And while Chanyeol was slightly disappointed because he was expecting Yixing’s hands to emit light as they heal Baekhyun’s wound- which they didn’t- he was extremely impressed by the slow but steady way that the purple and black on Baekhyun’s skin faded. It went away slowly, like watching a rewind of a canvas being painted, but the change was obvious. The swelling went down tremendously, the ugly spots faded away into pale skin and most notably, Baekhyun’s tensed body- held up by Sehun- became pliant.

After Yixing moves away, Baekhyun sighs in relief. “Thanks, Yixing.”

Yixing ruffles Baekhyun’s hair affectionately, causing Baekhyun to yell and Sehun to join in the assault. Standing at the side, Chanyeol feels like an intruder even though this was his own flat.

It was the first time that he ever felt left out around Baekhyun, but it wasn’t going to be the last.

It doesn’t happen immediately, but in a slow way, almost as if prying into their lives. It starts with with a text message.

 **Jongdae**  
dinner tonight??????

Chanyeol reads it and chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he types out a quick text.

 **Chanyeol**  
Sorry man, it’s Friday night.

 **Jongdae**  
what’s up? u got a date?!

 **Chanyeol**  
Nah, it’s just Baekhyun.

On hindsight, Chanyeol really regretted his phrasing, because a curious Jongdae was a force to be reckoned with. Jongdae begins to spam his phone like there’s no tomorrow.

 **Jongdae**  
u’re dating baekhyun???  
ur neighbour, baekhyun????  
the thick one w the eyes???  
u??????????  
LOL  
since when?? WHY did u not tell me????!  
bRO i’ve been LOOKING FOR DATES FOR U!!!!

 **Chanyeol**  
What the fuck. I meant I’m spending the night watching movies with Baekhyun!!

Then, thinking better of it, Chanyeol sends another text quickly.

 **Chanyeol**  
As in, Friday nights are movie nights.

 **Jongdae**  
oh.  
well then.  
sounds suspicious, but ok.

Chanyeol chuckles again, slipping his phone into his pocket as he passes by Kyungsoo’s desk where the younger man was still typing out an email.

“Bye, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes snap to Chanyeol, opening his mouth but then catching himself at the last second, after catching sight of Chanyeol’s little backpack sitting on his shoulders. He purses his lips briefly before offering a kind smile to Chanyeol, “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Chanyeol thinks that Kyungsoo’s momentary hesitance was weird, but he doesn’t dwell too much on the thought as he makes his way home, choosing to preoccupy himself with ordering dinner so that it would arrive just as he finishes his shower. And after his shower and after the food arrives, Baekhyun will pop by his unit in what he thinks is an inconspicuous way- which it really isn’t- and they’ll have their usual movie night.

Except that Chanyeol has been waiting on his bed with the pizza box on his lap and two cups of hot chocolate on the bedside table. His hair has more or less dried by now and both the hot chocolate and pizza is turning cold, and the movie sits across him patiently. Chanyeol is getting a little hungry by now but he resolves to wait for Baekhyun for another ten minutes before taking the first slice. Baekhyun wouldn’t mind Chanyeol starting without him first, right?

And as one slice turns to two, the hot chocolate becomes cold and less liquid than it should be, and the movie still sits across him, but looking more taunting than anything else. It’s only after his fourth slice that Chanyeol begins to realise that maybe Baekhyun wouldn’t be able to make it for a movie tonight, but he’d still come around for dinner..

Right?

Chanyeol closes the pizza box and puts it on his bedside table, watching the clock on his laptop change digits in a slow fashion. One minute passes. Two minutes passes. Ten minutes passes. Twenty-eight. Fourty-three.

Chanyeol doesn’t get past the hour, eyelids closing and chest rising in a steady up, down, up, down movement. He misses the loud laughter that drifts by his door late in the night.

When Chanyeol wakes up the next morning with a full cup of stale hot chocolate and half a pizza, he puts the pizza in the fridge to reheat for dinner while he pours the untouched cup of hot chocolate down the sink.

  
Chanyeol is busy throwing the trash away that morning when he runs into Baekhyun and Yixing. Or rather, Baekhyun and Yixing run into him.

“Chanyeol!” Baekhyun greets jovially, raising a hand and waving it exaggeratedly over his head. Yixing raises his own hand in a polite manner. As they approach Chanyeol, Baekhyun continues, “It feels like such a long time since I’ve last seen you. What have you been doing?”

 _Waiting for you_ , Chanyeol thinks dryly. “Working.” Chanyeol says, shifting his weight from one foot to another in what he hopes looks casual.

Baekhyun’s smile turns soft at Chanyeol’s reply, “You should really take some time off to rest once in awhile. Don’t overwork yourself, and all that.” then Baekhyun’s eyes light up with an idea, “Hey, we’re watching a movie tonight, aren’t we? It’s Friday today.”

Yixing shoots Baekhyun a weird look, “Wasn’t Friday yesterday?” he says confusedly.

Baekhyun frowns back, scratching his temple, “No, isn’t it Friday today?” and his eyes wander to meet Chanyeol’s, seeking confirmation. Chanyeol can only bring himself to offer a half-smile.

“It’s Saturday today.” Chanyeol says lifelessly.

Baekhyun’s eyes widens for a second as all traces of a smile falls off his face, panic settling in immediately.

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun blurts out, “I’m so sorry, Chanyeol. I lost track of time. I’m really, really sorry that I forgot. I hope you didn’t wait for me before you started.”

The more vengeful part of Chanyeol wants to bite out something sarcastic, but the thought wilts when Baekhyun looks so apologetic, so _guilty_. He really wants to make Baekhyun feel bad on some level, but the man looks like he’s already beating himself up for it enough.

“I didn’t. I ate the pizza and even had two cups of hot chocolate to myself.” Chanyeol lies. The words tastes like ash on his tongue.

Baekhyun sighs in relief. “That’s mean.” he says jokingly. Chanyeol forces himself to laugh along with Yixing and Baekhyun.

When he retreats to his apartment, he checks the new message he received in the short time he was out.

 **Kyungsoo**  
Hey, I know it’s Saturday but I was wondering if you’d like to grab lunch or dinner later?

Chanyeol chuckles to himself as he begins to type his reply.

 **Chanyeol**  
What’s wrong with eating with me on Saturday?

Days seem to pass by slower ever since Yixing’s arrival. Or maybe Chanyeol was now more acutely aware of the time than he had been before, when Baekhyun was everywhere he went. Now that Yixing is here, Sehun and Baekhyun have been spending more time with Yixing, understandably so, making sure that Yixing was adjusting well to Earth and catching up with him. It’s great, really. Chanyeol got his peace and privacy back, and Baekhyun and Sehun were happy in their own space. And well, it’s not like things are much different, but it was. It was only when Chanyeol was about to leave his cubicle when Kyungsoo walks over quietly.

“Hey, do you want to grab some dinner?” Kyungsoo asks casually. Chanyeol opens his mouth without much thought to it, about to say _no, sorry, I have something on tonight_ , before he realises that really- he doesn’t. Baekhyun is busy now, and Sehun never really crashed unless Baekhyun was there. So Chanyeol was free to go out, and that leaves him with a foreign feeling clouding in his chest.

“Okay, sure.” Chanyeol says, rubbing at his chest as if it would dispel the weirdness that took hold of him.

Kyungsoo’s blank expression softens slightly at the edges, “I was thinking about trying that new sushi place.”

Chanyeol nods and agrees readily, even if he thinks that having pizza with a nice movie was a better option.

As usual, time spent with Kyungsoo is always enjoyable. Chanyeol laughs when Kyungsoo recounts about the stupid things that his colleagues talk about in the pantry, while Chanyeol rambles on about the latest developments in office politics. It’s nice being able to connect to someone like this, without needing to explain pop culture references every now and then. Chanyeol supposes that it has been a relatively long time since he talked to a normal human as he was doing now, and maybe this reconnection was something he never knew he needed until it happened.

Laughter flows out of Chanyeol’s mouth like water down a stream, seamlessly and smoothly. Kyungsoo is chuckling along as well, hiding his smile behind a fist as he lowers his gaze to the neatly stacked plates at the edge of their table. As their laughter subsides, Kyungsoo’s gaze drifts over and they hold eye contact as they smile. It’s easy to fall into such a relaxed mood around Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol almost forgot what it felt like to let yourself go so completely.

“I haven’t seen you smile like this in such a long time.” Kyungsoo says softly after a long pause, the small smile still sitting prettily on his heart-shaped lips, “You know, I was really worried about you for awhile. You seemed pretty uptight about something.”

Chanyeol’s smile begins to wane, “I was?”

He didn’t even realise.

Kyungsoo nods, “You stopped laughing for a short period, too. And then it came back slowly.” Kyungsoo pauses, waiting for Chanyeol to continue the conversation, but when Chanyeol makes no move to do so, Kyungsoo’s smile drops completely. “I know that we talk mostly about work related topics, but I’m always here to listen to you about any other worries you may have in your life, you know? I’m your friend, and I want to be there for you when you need it.”

Chanyeol glances up. He can see the genuine promise in Kyungsoo’s expressive eyes- the part of him that Kyungsoo can never fully control. Chanyeol knows that Kyungsoo means every word that he said, because Kyungsoo was never one to break a promise.

In that moment, the thought that it would be nice for someone else to understand his life crosses his mind. Chanyeol wants to be able to talk about everything to someone on the outside and get an objective opinion on what he should do, and the sudden desire is overwhelming.

Chanyeol leans forward, thinking about how he should phrase his experience so that it sounded believable and authentic. Kyungsoo leans forward too, in anticipation.

And then suddenly, an image of Baekhyun flashes in his mind. Suddenly, he was reminded of his unspoken promise to his friend, to protect his friend. Chanyeol was the only friend Baekhyun has on Earth, and Baekhyun trusted him enough not to wiped his memory, trusted him with his life even if it ended up giving him a badly infected wound.

There’s a painful twinge in Chanyeol’s chest, as he bites his lip and looks down, moving away from Kyungsoo.

“It’s personal.” Chanyeol says instead.

Kyungsoo sighs inwardly, trying to hide his disappointment. “Alright. If you ever want to talk to me about it, I’ll always be here.”

When Chanyeol goes home that night, as he unlocks his own door, he hears a bout of laughter from Sehun’s flat, and he can distinctly pick out Baekhyun’s sharp laughter from the mix. The twinge in his chest returns as the lock clicks, but Chanyeol wills it away with the tenderness of Kyungsoo’s words echoing repeatedly in his thoughts.

  
It’s Sunday, and on Sundays Jongdae and Chanyeol go cafe hopping.

They end up in a quaint little cafe a ways from Chanyeol’s flat, closer to where Jongdae lives with his mysterious roommate he found from out of thin air. Chanyeol doesn’t actually know who this said roommate is because for how big (both figuratively and literally) Jongdae’s mouth is, the man can be surprisingly mum about the things that really matter. Somehow.

Chanyeol is mashing his mash potatoes with his fork, creating a mountain of mash potato before pressing it flat in the middle in criss-crossed patterns. Unknown to Chanyeol, Jongdae scowls at his antics.

“Will you stop playing with your food, for gods sake.” Jongdae growls, intercepting the next criss-cross lines with his own butter knife. Chanyeol looks at Jongdae, startled back into the present.

“I’m mashing the potatoes.”

“Like I can’t see that,” Jongdae snaps, “they're already mashed, like your brain, apparently. What is up with you recently? You’ve been acting all strange.”

Chanyeol sulks, sinking into his seat a little bit, “I’ve been busy.”

“With what?”

“Work.”

Jongdae raises how brows skeptically, “Come on, Chanyeol. I know for a fact that work isn’t the only thing you’ve been busy with. Your left eye always gets twitchy when you’re trying to hide something. So spill it already.”

“Okay, fine. I’ve been helping my neighbours to settle in.”

“Baekhyun and Sehun?”

“I’m surprised that you remember their names.”

Jongdae laughs loudly, slapping the table twice, “Of course I do, Chanyeol. They were an absolute delight to have over that night.” a thoughtful pause, and then, “How are they, by the way?”

“Great. They’re fine. Their friend even came to visit them from some faraway place.” Chanyeol replies stiffly, “They’re great.”

Jongdae raises his eyebrows again, letting out a low whistle as he cuts a piece of his avocado toast and starts smearing the avocado evenly on the bread. Shaking his head in amusement, Jongdae says, “If I didn’t know better, I’d have said that you sounded salty.” Jongdae glances up with a tiny smirk on his lips, “Maybe you are.”

_Why do you use a taste to describe another taste to describe a feeling?_

Chanyeol shakes away the sudden words that came to mind. “That’s stupid. Why would I be salty?” he scoffs.

“I don’t know. Why are you salty?”

Chanyeol brings his now cold cup of coffee closer to him, stirring it distractedly as sounds of loud laughter and yelling filled his mind, only that the visual image was that of a wall, instead of people and smiles. Somehow, being an outsider made his heart feel a little heavier, and it stung a bit as well. Maybe it was because he was so used to being included- even against his will, sometimes- that being on the outside now felt like he was being excluded on purpose, and it hurt. He hadn’t realised just how much time he usually spent with Sehun and Baekhyun until he no longer did.

Or maybe it was because he never heard Baekhyun and Sehun laugh this way before, and it wasn’t around him, wasn’t because of him. That kind of sucks too.

“I’m not salty.” Chanyeol says finally, “I’m not.” he says again when Jongdae gives him a disbelieving look. “They’re settling in just fine, even better now that their friend is here with them again. I’m a neighbour who was trying to help, and I think my job is almost done already.”

Jongdae chews his toast carefully, narrowing his eyes at a squirmish Chanyeol before he shrugs indifferently, cutting out another piece of the toast. “So, anyway, are you free this Thursday?”

“What’s on Thursday?” Chanyeol asks suspiciously.

“Another date I found for you.”

Chanyeol groans, banging the edge of his coffee cup against the table and drawing unwanted stares from nearby patrons. Jongdae bows his head apologetically at them while Chanyeol pinches the bridge of his nose painfully.

“Jongdae, as grateful as I am to you for your continued efforts, I don’t think that I will be requiring your assistance anymore.”

“What? Why?” Jongdae cries, baffled.

“I’m just.. tired. I’m tired.” Chanyeol says, picking up his fork to resume poking at his flat pile of mashed potatoes. Jongdae wrinkles his nose at this, but says nothing. “I’ve gone on so many dates, and it seems like love is always escaping me. It’s tiring. Maybe love just isn’t for me, you know?” Chanyeol shrugs one shoulder, looking only at his food and not at Jongdae’s gradually softening gaze.

“Don’t say that. You’ll find love one day.”

“But you know, maybe I don’t need to be in love. Why do I need to be in love with someone to be happy? I am my own person, and love is just something that is a plus, but my life is already complete without it anyway. I have a house, I have a job, I have friends.” Chanyeol points his fork at Jongdae before his friend gets to cut him off, “You and Kyungsoo are all the friends I need, okay. I have a loving and supportive family. I’m just starting to get tired of always looking for love where it’s nowhere to be found. I’m tired of putting myself out there, and getting overlooked every single time. It’s a waste of my time, effort and completely draining my self-confidence. I don’t want this anymore.”

Jongdae takes a long breath before sighing, “I understand, Chanyeol. I’ll stop if this is making you upset. But please don’t give up on finding love. It’s not like I’m disagreeing with what you said, but if you never try, you’ll never know what may happen. Don’t shut out opportunities that present themselves to you at least. If a pretty girl or boy asks you out, and you don’t have anything on, just go for it alright?”

Chanyeol looks up at Jongdae from under his hair, feeling his negativity wilt under the affectionate look from his best friend- the one he never uses unless Chanyeol’s in a bad place. The both of them remain silent for awhile before Chanyeol sighs at last, putting his fork down on the plate.

“Yeah, yeah, I will. But, what do you mean ‘boy’?”

“I don’t know. I never ruled it out as a possibility.” Jongdae takes a quick look at Chanyeol before clarifying, “Look, I don’t care if you’re straight, bixsexual, gay, asexual or pan or whatever. All I care about is having a happy Chanyeol, because a sad and stressed Chanyeol means an equally sad and stressed Jongdae, okay?”

“Did you order extra cheese or what, because that would explain the-”

“Chanyeol!”

“Okay, yeah, I _know_ , Jongdae. I get it.” Chanyeol shrinks into himself, feeling very much like a little child that just got scolded for his wrongdoings, “It’s just that you know how much talking about things like this makes me.”

Jongdae reaches over the table to whack the top of Chanyeol’s head, “It’s not like I enjoy it either, but some things need to be said. That skull of yours can be really thick if things aren’t spelled out for you.”

“Hey, that’s rude.” Chanyeol huffs indignantly, folding his arms across his chest with a disapproving frown. Jongdae rolls his eyes, returning to his routine of spreading the avocado all over the piece of bread he cut off. Chanyeol looks glumly at his own messy plate, “Hey, is it my turn to pay this week?”

“No, it’s my turn.” Jongdae says quickly, without batting an eyelid. Which is really strange, because for some reason Chanyeol remembers that it’s his turn to pay.

“Huh, I thought you paid for last week’s branch at that sunshine place. The one with the big rainbow across the window.”

“You must have remembered wrongly then, you paid.” Jongdae refutes.

Even though there’s a nagging feeling at the back of Chanyeol’s head that still believes that Jongdae is lying to him, but hey, Chanyeol isn’t going to refuse a free meal. Chanyeol shrugs it off as he looks out the window, staring at the passersby who stroll across the pavement- some with urgency and some with intertwined hands- and he looks down at his own calloused palms sitting on his lap. For the longest time, all he ever wanted was to find someone whose hand he could hold whenever he felt like it, who he could hug close to him when the weather was cold, or maybe fall asleep on the phone with. But now, the appeal of that dream was slowly fading away and he didn’t know why either. Maybe it was the numerous failed dates that left him jaded and cynical, or maybe because it was because of the other hectic events that sprung onto him lately, draining him of the energy to want to meet new people.

Chanyeol clenches his fist blankly, feeling a wave of calm resignation wash over him. It’s the same feeling that accompanies him home long after he bids Jongdae goodbye, sitting at the back of the bus and staring out of the dirty window without looking. It’s the same feeling of emptiness that occupies him when the elevator doors open with a taunting ding, when he reaches his door and slides his keys in, when he hears clamouring from next door in the chorus of high and low notes, jumbled in synchronicity. Chanyeol stills with his hand on the key, stuck in the middle of the keyhole, before he yanks it out violently, turning back down the hall while whipping his mobile phone from the pocket of his oversized purple hoodie.

 **Chanyeol**  
Hey Kyungsoo, are you up for a beer tonight?

When his phone buzzes back almost immediately, Chanyeol misses the way that Sehun’s door clicks open minutely, a curious pair of eyes following his back down the hall before drooping in disappointment and shutting the door again silently.

  
Baekhyun fades out of as Chanyeol’s life in a dull, almost unnoticeable manner. The time spent after work exchanging stories or walking around their neighbourhood has been replaced with regular meals with Kyungsoo and Jongdae. And while Chanyeol doesn’t still refuses to go on dates with other single friend that Jongdae somehow manages to find, it doesn’t mean that the weird feeling of wanting to find companionship has gone away either.

For some strange reason, Chanyeol only realised what that feeling was when Baekhyun stopped hanging around him as often as he used to. But Baekhyun was something that happened in the past, so Chanyeol tries not to think about it too much, because thinking about something that used to happen and isn’t anymore would mean that maybe Chanyeol misses Baekhyun. Maybe Baekhyun was someone he actually wanted to be around. It would mean that Baekhyun was someone Chanyeol held dearly, and that was a scary thought to have.

So Chanyeol chooses to fill his time with practicing his bowling, composing songs he would always dream of singing to a crowd one day, and meals with Kyungsoo and Jongdae. Time usually passes faster this way.

Usually.

Today is a rare exception where Jongdae has put his irritating persona on duty, making it necessary to dredge up everything that Chanyeol doesn’t want to talk about from six feet under the soil.

The little automated alarm chimes in the convenience store when Chanyeol and Jongdae cross the entrance, with Jongdae just a step behind Chanyeol with a childish pout on his face.

“I’m just _saying_ ,” Jongdae drags his words, “maybe a dog would do your grumpy ass some good.”

“I’m not grumpy.” Chanyeol refuses immediately, still browsing through the cool section for something refreshing to drink. Then throwing a look over his shoulders, Chanyeol continues, “And you know that I’m allergic to dogs, Jongdae. As much as I want to own one, I can’t.”

“Just get some antihistamines or something.”

“I can’t be taking them 24/7.”

“Well then, do something about..” Jongdae eyes Chanyeol up and down critically, before gesturing to his entire body, “this.”

Chanyeol sighs, a long and pitiful sound. “Look, I really don’t need anyone else right now. I’m not grumpy- I’m tired. Work has been stressful lately. We’ve got a bitch ass client always demanding unreasonable shit at the eleventh hour, give me a break.”

“Even when work was bad a few weeks ago, you never acted like this.”

“That’s because-” Then Chanyeol stops himself, cutting his sentence off just before the next words rolled off his tongue, as soon as he realises that they were ‘Baekhyun was there’. Closing his mouth awkwardly, Chanyeol spins around to get a look at the rows of coloured bottles lined up in the refrigerators. Jongdae frowns at the back of Chanyeol’s head, poking his friend with a long finger.

“What.” Jongdae pokes Chanyeol again, and again, and again, “What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.”

“What- Chanyeol, you can’t just say something and then _not_ say it.”

“Watch me.”

“What- I- Fine. _Fine_. Be that way.” Jongdae says, folding his arms across his chest. Chanyeol shrugs, bending down to get a closer look at the bottle of soursop drink with less sugar added. “Hey,” Jongdae says a beat later, “so how have dinners with Kyungsoo been like?”

Chanyeol pauses, turning around slowly to meet Jongdae’s curious yet imploring gaze. “What?”

“You’ve been dating him, right? That’s why you’ve been rejecting all my blind dates for you?”

“We’re not dating-”

“Okay, going out, whatever. But you know, how has he been like?”

Chanyeol shifts his weight on one foot uneasily, thinking about how to answer Jongdae without making it sound like there was anything romantic happening between him and Kyungsoo. Objectively, there were many ways to describe how Kyungsoo is like as a person: caring, compassionate, smart, observant. But in that moment, all that Chanyeol can come up with is:

“He’s nice.” Chanyeol nods his head, affirming his answer.

Jongdae raises a skeptical brow. “He’s ‘nice’?”

“Yeah. I just said that, yeah.”

“But, ‘nice’ how?”

“I don’t know, he’s just-” Chanyeol waves his hands around in frustration of not being able to find the appropriate words to describe his friend, “he’s _nice_. He pays for some of the meals we have, and then I pay for the others. He bakes nice cakes and cookies, same as he has always done. I mean, yeah, he listens to my problems too, and sometimes we talk on the phone before I sleep. You know, _nice_.”

“I don’t think that’s being nice anymore, Chanyeol.” Jongdae says after a moment of thoughtful silence, “I think that’s him being interested.”

The air between them turns cold, and the small distance between them suddenly seems much farther than it was seconds ago. Chanyeol lets his gaze wander on the floor, looking between specs of dirt and little cracks in the tiles from the years of wear and tear.

“What about you, Chanyeol?” Jongdae asks in a much softer voice, barely above a breath, “Are _you_ interested?”

Chanyeol finds the courage to look back at Jongdae again, feeling his mouth go dry and his heart hammering away. As he opens his mouth to answer, something falls from the aisle between them and rolls to Chanyeol’s feet. It’s a can of tomato sauce.

Both Jongdae and Chanyeol’s eyes follow the path of the tomato sauce can to find Baekhyun at the end of it, frozen in shock and embarrassment.

Just how _long_ has he been standing there? Just how much has he _heard_?

“I’m sorry.” Baekhyun squeaks.

“Baekhyun?” Chanyeol says loudly, eyes widening in surprise, “What’re you doing here?”

“Getting tomato sauce.” Baekhyun points at the can at the bottom of Chanyeol’s feet, resting uselessly against the tip of his shoe, “Yixing wanted to make pasta for supper.”

Oh, right. Yixing.

“Oh.” Chanyeol mumbles, picking up the can and handing it back to Baekhyun, who takes it stiffly with a grateful nod in his direction.

“Thank you.” Baekhyun whispers to Chanyeol, but in the relatively quiet store it was loud enough for the three of them to hear it clearly. Then turning to Jongdae, Baekhyun smiles politely, “Hi, Jongdae.”

“Hey, Baekhyun. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun replies in an unsure way, with his gaze flickering between Jongdae and Chanyeol. Chanyeol rubs the back of his neck nervously, choosing to break the eye contact and look back down at the floor.

Oblivious to the tension, Jongdae continues, “Hey, you know what, we should do one of that movie thing again, with more alcohol and pizza.”

“Yeah, we should.” Baekhyun laughs along, although Chanyeol can tell how forced it is. Chanyeol tries to laugh along too, but it comes out like a choking sound and causes Jongdae to cast him a worried and incredulous glance. “Oh, well, I should be going. Yixing is waiting for the sauce.” Baekhyun says, raising the can to his face for emphasis. Jongdae nods in understanding.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then, Baekhyun!”

Baekhyun laughs again, and then hurries away while trying to make it discreet after taking one last look at Chanyeol. Jongdae lets out a low whistle after Baekhyun has left, “Well, he looks like he’s doing well. I guess that’s a good thing, at least.” and then he hits Chanyeol’s arm lightly, “Hey, didn’t you mention that you and Baekhyun have movie nights or something?”

Chanyeol’s smile falls. “Had.”

Jongdae raises both his eyebrows as he looks away, “Had? Like, past tense? Damn, son, what happened? I mean, you even refused eating with me for him-” as soon as he looks back at Chanyeol, Jongdae stops talking. At that moment, Chanyeol wasn’t sure exactly what kind of expression he was wearing, but then again Jongdae always had a way of figuring out what Chanyeol needed.

With a rapidly softening look, Jongdae lightly hits Chanyeol’s arm. “Hey, didn’t you come here to get a drink anyway? Or did you already abort that mission without telling me earlier?”

Chanyeol sighs, “I don’t think that I was really thirsty anyway, just tired and impulsive.”

“Alright,” Jongdae agrees, “let’s go back home then.”

They don’t talk about Baekhyun or Kyungsoo as Jongdae sends Chanyeol home.

Chanyeol welcomes the new year the same way that he always does: in Jongdae’s annual New Years party drowning in cheap alcohol and house music booming over the speakers.

Chanyeol worms his way through the crowd into the corner where Kyungsoo was fidgeting by himself, looking entirely out of place in the crowd of raucous bodies. It’s impossible to know how Jongdae manages to invite this many people, but then it’s even more impossible to try and think about how this many people are able to cram into a small apartment unit. The unit is nice and minimalistically decorated, but seeing how stylish and modern it was made Chanyeol wonder just how much rent Jongdae was paying for it.

When Chanyeol finally squeezes through the last group of college-looking kids, he hands Kyungsoo a cup of punch, which Kyungsoo looks with distaste at. “Stay sober, don’t do anything stupid, won’t regret anything tomorrow morning.” Chanyeol chirps, giving Kyungsoo’s cup a one-sided cheers before taking a large sip of his drink.

“We’re nearing thirty, Chanyeol, not thirteen.” Kyungsoo deadpans.

“And that’s why we’re staying sober tonight.”

Kyungsoo grumbles something under his breath before taking a small sip of punch, scanning the room as he does. “Is it always this loud?”

“Think this is the most crowded it’s ever been.” Chanyeol raises his voice over the beat drop, leaning down to Kyungsoo’s ear level so it would be easier to communicate, “It’s definitely the first time that Jongdae required everyone to bring a date along.”

Kyungsoo laughs at this, hand automatically flying to cover his opened mouth, “Is that so? Why me, then?”

Chanyeol pulls away slightly, blinking in surprise. “Don’t know. You were the first person I thought of.” he says, drinking his punch to wash down the bitter taste of a half-lie on from his mouth. While the first person he thought of asking was Baekhyun, he couldn’t very well ask Baekhyun with their friendship in tatters like they were now, so the next ‘first person’ that came to mind was Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol takes an especially hard gulp, wincing as it went down too fast. Ironically, fruit punch has never tasted so bitter.

Kyungsoo smiles up at Chanyeol, eyes twinkling with the dim lights and big disco ball reflecting light in random directions. “Well, I’m flattered.” Kyungsoo replies easily, raising his cup and waiting for Chanyeol to knock it with his own before they down the rest of the punch together.

“So what do we do now?” Kyungsoo asks, “Do we just stand around like strangers until the clock strikes midnight?”

“I guess.” Chanyeol mumbles unsurely, “I usually just sit at the sofa with a beer until midnight, and it can get boring. So you know, I’m kind of glad you agreed to come over.”

“You usually nurse a beer on the sofa and yet we’re abstaining from alcohol for some reason?” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes jokingly, giving Chanyeol’s arm a punch that ends up harder than he probably expected it to be. Chanyeol winces, folding awkwardly sideways.

“I actually have a lot of good reasons why abstaining from alcohol at Jongdae’s parties are always the best ideas. Things I learnt the hard way.”

“Such as?”

“Okay, first of all, cab fares on a public holiday? Like that isn’t enough? Second of all, I’m not going to be that friend sitting next to the drunk passenger puking outside a moving cab. Nope.” when Chanyeol catches Kyungsoo’s incredulous look, he nods in confirmation, “Been there, done that. And third of all, I once got so drunk I fell asleep and had to be the poor soul to help Jongdae clean up the next day. So we’re staying sober and getting out of here so we don’t have to clean spilt alcohol and dried vomit, okay?”

Kyungsoo nods in new understanding, “With such traumatic experiences, I can finally see why you turned out this way.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, kicking Kyungsoo’s shin lightly before regretting it when Kyungsoo chases him with an _empty_ cup- making even an empty cup look threatening. In the middle of it all, they fall into laughter and start talking about other things: recently released movies, Kyungsoo’s latest baking adventures, Chanyeol’s own disastrous baking adventure, more office gossip. It’s honestly the most fun that Chanyeol has had in a while, and for the first time when he catches the way that Kyungsoo’s eyes crinkle at the side when the fold up in half moons, Chanyeol feels a warm feeling burst in the middle of his chest.

In the end, Kyungsoo wins the argument to have just a single cup of beer. They’re leaning against the wall now, somewhere closer to the crowd than they were before, playing I spy.

“I spy something bright.” Chanyeol says, looking pointedly away from the disco ball hanging right in front of them.

“The disco ball.” Kyungsoo guesses, sounding mildly bored, “The disco ball, again. For like, the fourth time. Can’t you be a little more creative here, Chanyeol?”

“Damn it.” Chanyeol swears to himself, taking a small swig of his beer, because he’s got to ration this. “It’s not like there’s anything much to spy in this place. We’ve been at this for like, half an hour. There’s a limit to how creative you can get.”

“ _I’m_ not the one who wants to even the score between us.” Kyungsoo shoots back evenly.

“Fine, fine. Just one more time.” Chanyeol says, eyes wandering around the room. Oh, what about the girl’s flower-patterned dress? Hmm, but it’s too outstanding. Oh, how about the little cat calendar on Jongdae’s coffee table? Hmm, but Kyungsoo said it before already. Hmm, what about that guy currently popping in the middle of the room?

Wait.

Chanyeol squints, leaning closer to where the crowd has cleared and is currently clapping and chanting, “I am the sheep!”

What the fuck. Is that Yixing?

“I am the sheep!” Yixing howls, dancing in the middle of the impromptu circle with sharp angles and fluid movements, “That China sheep!”

And then the crowd goes absolutely nuts when he does a ridiculously hard hip thrust, and in all honesty, Chanyeol can’t say that he wasn’t impressed. He was really, _really_ impressed by the flexibility of Yixing’s hips.

But flexibility and abs aside, what is Yixing doing here? Because if Yixing is hre, that must mean-

“Chanyeol!” a firm hand claps his shoulder. Chanyeol looks over his shoulder warily, finding an elated Sehun grinning at him. “Glad to see that you could make it.”

“Glad that _I_ could make it? What are _you_ doing here?”

“We got invited.” Sehun answers lazily. Chanyeol looks down and finds a cup of questionable liquid in Sehun’s other hand, while the hand on his shoulder tightens its grip slightly. “I mean, _Baekhyun_ got invited, and then he brought me along, and I brought Yixing along.” Sehun clarifies.

“I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work.” Chanyeol says flatly. Sehun laughs, waving his hand in the air.

“Blah, blah blah.” Sehun says, then laughs at his own words.

“Sehun,” Chanyeol says seriously, “I think you’re intoxicated.”

“Oh look, there’s Yixing.” Sehun points towards Yixing, who is now doing a handstand and allowing his shirt to ride up his washboard. Oh, fucking hell, those are the most solid abs that Chanyeol has ever had the pleasure of seeing with his bare eyes. Sehun saunters towards the crowd, pushing his way through to the front while joining the cheers of “China sheep! China sheep!”

Chanyeol stares at Sehun long after the latter has disappeared into the crowd. After a moment, Kyungsoo walks to Chanyeol’s side.

“Who was that?” Kyungsoo asks, amused. Chanyeol shakes his head.

“My neighbour.”

“The quiet one?” Kyungsoo raises his thick brows, eyes darting back to the crowd.

Chanyeol nods stiffly, “Yeah. I mean, he’s usually much quieter. Without the alcohol in him.”

Kyungsoo nods, opens his mouth to say something but gets cut off when Baekhyun stumbles into him, spilling beer on Kyungsoo’s plain v neck.

“Oops.” Baekhyun utters, then giggles as if there was an inside joke. Kyungsoo catches Baekhyun in his arms but puts distance between them, gaping incredulously at the wet patch on his shirt. “I’m sorry.” Baekhyun says belatedly, after a long pause of thought, with his words slurred together.

“Are you-” Chanyeol licks his lips anxiously, “Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk, I’m Baekhyun.” Baekhyun whines, “Or did you already forget who I am? Am I that forgettable to you, Chanyeolie?”

Kyungsoo looks at Chanyeol with a raised brow, and Chanyeol sighs, moving forward to prised Baekhyun away from his poor friend. “Yup, you’re drunk. Come here, and give me that cup.”

“Why? Take your own cup.” Baekhyun protests, swiftly moving his hands away from Chanyeol’s but otherwise falling quite pliantly into Chanyeol’s arms. Kyungsoo points in the direction of the bathroom and then to his shirt, which Chanyeol nods at.

Chanyeol peels Baekhyun off his chest with some effort, suddenly remembering how muscular Baekhyun was compared to him. “Hey, come on. Let’s get you home.”

Baekhyun’s smile falls off his face entirely, “Home? Why? I want to stay out here longer. I want to play more.” and then a sloppy smile forms on his face again, eyes drooping in hazy happiness.

“Baekhyun, you’re drunk. I think you’ve already had too much for tonight.”

“Why? I never get to play. I never-” Baekhyun pushes himself off of Chanyeol, shaking his head confusedly, “I never get to play. I’m always in Sehun’s room. I’m always waiting for people to come back so I don’t have to be lonely anymore. I never get to _play_.”

Even though Chanyeol has never seen this side of Baekhyun before, nor has he ever had an argument with him, Chanyeol can definitely tell when one is brewing. He can see the way that Baekhyun’s expression starts to break, the way that he begins to heave in and out more heavily, the way that the line between his brows deepen.

It’s then that Kyungsoo comes back, airing his even damper shirt and looking between them awkwardly.

Chanyeol wears his best apologetic look, hoping that Kyungsoo would understand and maybe even help him. “I’m going to bring him back. Can you do me a favour?”

Kyungsoo nods solemnly.

“Can you help me to look after the other guys, Sehun and Yixing?” Chanyeol nods towards the two men, still dancing and popping in the middle of a cheering crowd. Kyungsoo looks at them and then back at Chanyeol, looking like a man with many questions but putting them off for a better time, and thank god for that, really.

“Okay. I’ll text you when I’m bringing them back.” Kyungsoo agrees.

Chanyeol sighs in relief, curling an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders as he begins to guide them out of Jongdae’s apartment. Baekhyun falls back into Chanyeol’s side like jelly. “Alright. Thank you so much, Kyungsoo.”

And then suddenly, the walking jelly that was Baekhyun suddenly turns to stone. The cloud in Baekhyun’s eyes are blown away with sudden clarity, giving Kyungsoo a careful once over with a face of distrust and- quite frankly- dislike. Chanyeol can feel the way that Baekhyun’s shoulders suddenly tense up, and he’s so grateful that Baekhyun bites his tongue and allows himself to be guided out of the apartment with only a lingering unfriendly stare back at Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol is desperately trying to flag a cab when the silence finally breaks. “So that’s Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun says with ice in his tone.

Chanyeol turns around slowly, trepidation seizing him, “Yes.”

Baekhyun looks at him and then breaks the eye contact, looking down at the gum on the street, “Are dinners with him so fun?”

Chanyeol freezes, feeling a wave of cold rage rushing through his veins. He doesn’t want to start an argument with Baekhyun on New Years Eve, but god damn it.

“Have you been following me again?” Chanyeol hisses, turning around fully now.

“No, I haven’t!” Baekhyun raises his voice, throwing his arms in the air, “I haven’t! Not a day since you told me you didn’t want me to-”

“Damn it, Baekhyun. We’ve _talked_ about this!”

“And when did we ever talk? Because I know that by definition, talking is an exchange of words, and how do you have an exchange when there’s only ever one person in the conversation? How do you talk about something when the other person is always hiding around the corner, always trying to avoid you?” Baekhyun shouts, clenching his fists and trying not to let the tears shining in his eyes fall. “And that’s exactly it, isn’t it? I know I’m a burden to you, and I’m always trying to cheer you up, I’m always trying to be someone you’d like to be around with someday. And I’m always- I’m always waiting for you! I’m always trying for you!”

And the first tear rolls down his cheek painfully slowly. Baekhyun chokes out a ragged sob, and then he continues with shut eyes and a tight voice, “I’ve always tried so hard to be someone to you. Why did you decide I wasn’t worth the time?”

Chanyeol’s heart breaks when Baekhyun’s voice breaks at the end. Oh god.

As people pass by, Chanyeol can feel their curious gazes, but it’s nothing compared to the broken boy trying his best to stifle his sobs in the middle of the street. The truth was that Chanyeol knew- he knew how hard Baekhyun tried. It couldn’t have been easy to land in a foreign land without his power, it couldn’t have been easy for him to be so alone when he was this vulnerable, it couldn’t have been easy to try and understand a culture and assimilate when he never wanted to be here in the first place. And all that time, he always put a smile on his face through the pain and loneliness. Oh god, and Chanyeol knew, but he never made it easier. All he cared about was how hurt he felt when he was suddenly pushed down the rank of importance on Baekhyun’s list with Yixing’s appearance. Chanyeol never tried to make it easier.

Chanyeol takes a tentative step forward, and seeing no signs of protest from Baekhyun, he takes another. And then another, all the way until he can finally pull his crying friend into an embrace that would hopefully start making up for his shitty attitude.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Chanyeol mumbles softly, stroking the back of Baekhyun’s head gently. It seemed as if Chanyeol’s words were the trigger words because Baekhyun leaned in, and started to cry harder.

Chanyeol wasn’t sure how long they stood on the street against each other, with Baekhyun’s tears soaking into Chanyeol’s shirt and Chanyeol’s hand softly combing down Baekhyun’s hair, hushing him slowly with phrases of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”. There were curious onlookers, but they all faded away with Baekhyun’s wrecked sobs.

When Baekhyun had calmed down enough, Chanyeol flagged a cab with Baekhyun still attached to his chest. They entered the vehicle in silence, with Baekhyun curling into the door and putting as much distance between them as possible, which added to Chanyeol’s guilt. Chanyeol faced away after making sure that Baekhyun wasn’t going to start crying all over again, staring out of the window with his mind racing faster than the car.

Somewhere along the relatively long journey back, Baekhyun had fallen asleep.

“Baekhyun, wake up.” Chanyeol whispered, lightly shaking his friend’s shoulder, “We’re home.”

“This isn’t home.” Baekhyun argued feebly, “Home is far, far away.”

Chanyeol purses his lips, helping a drowsy Baekhyun out of the cab. Baekhyun climbs out on unsteady feet, gripping onto Chanyeol’s shirt where the damp patch wasn’t fully dried yet.

“I’m sorry. I dirtied your shirt.” Baekhyun slurs.

Chanyeol shrugs casually, throwing Baekhyun’s arm over his shoulder and allowing Baekhyun to lean against him as they begin to walk back to their flat. “It’s fine, I was going to do laundry tomorrow anyway.”

With herculean effort on Chanyeol’s part, they manage to make it back to their floor. Chanyeol drags them past his own door when Baekhyun begins to shake his head.

“Don’t have it.” Baekhyun mumbles. Chanyeol furrows his brows in confusion.

“Don’t have what?”

“Keys. Sehun has them.”

Chanyeol looks around the empty corridor exasperatedly before he sighs, dragging them back to his door and fumbles around for his key. He only manages to kick his door open before Baekhyun pulls away, pushing himself against the hinges of the door.

“‘Sokay, you don’t have to- to take care of me if you don’t want to.” Baekhyun hiccups.

“What are you talking about, Baekhyun? You’re drunk.”

“I don’t want to be someone who burdens you anymore. I can wait out..” Baekhyun looks around dazedly before pointing to the floor just outside, “here. I can wait for Sehun here.” he points at the floor over and over again as he finishes his sentence.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re this drunk.”

Baekhyun stomps his feet, head lolling, “I’m not going to burden-”

“You’re not a burden to me, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol interrupts sharply, angrily. Baekhyun closes his mouth, hand falling uselessly to his side as he stares at Chanyeol in shock. “You were never a burden to me, and you will never be a burden to me. And, you know what, even if you were a burden, it’s a burden that I’ll fucking gladly take. So stop talking about yourself like this.”

The fight in Baekhyun’s eyes drain out during the tensed silence, his gaze falls to the floor as he begins to make his way into Chanyeol’s room, occasionally bumping into the furniture before falling heavily onto Chanyeol’s bed. Chanyeol gets them each a cup of water and makes sure that Baekhyun is comfortable on his bed before he goes into the toilet, taking out his phone to text his address to Kyungsoo. To his surprise, his phone was flooded with notification of messages received over the last two hours that he had been out- most of them chain messages of new year wishes. Chanyeol stops swiping when he catches Kyungsoo’s name in the long list.

 **Kyungsoo**  
Happy New Year, Chanyeol! Yixing is still dancing, while Sehun has fallen asleep in the guest room. I will be waiting for Yixing to be done before making our way back to yours.

Chanyeol smiles at his phone, belatedly realising that the clock had long struck twelve.

 **Chanyeol**  
Thanks a lot, Kyungsoo. Let me know when you’re here.

 **Kyungsoo**  
I will.

Chanyeol slides his phone back into his pocket as his back slides down the door, landing on the floor with his legs tucked under him. To be honest, Chanyeol really didn’t want to go back out there, but it wasn’t like he could hide in the toilet forever. Besides, Baekhyun was outside, and Chanyeol needed to make sure that Baekhyun wouldn’t choke on his own vomit or anything like it.

But _god_ , it was so difficult to face Baekhyun again. Chanyeol knew that he fucked up, and he wasn’t even sure where to begin making it up.

Chanyeol threw his face into his palms, rubbing his face tiredly. He sits there for awhile longer before he splashes some cold water onto his face, giving his cheeks three hard pats before he exits. Chanyeol is wiping his hands on his shirt when he finds Baekhyun curled into a fetal position on his bed, fast asleep with his mouth slightly ajar. Sighing quietly, Chanyeol takes a seat at the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket over Baekhyun lethargically. Up close, he can see Baekhyun’s puffy eyes and swollen lips, he can see the way that his eyelids flutter in his sleep.

Without thinking, Chanyeol reaches out to smooth down the strands of hair sticking out of his messy hair, only that he doesn’t stop even when Baekhyun’s hair is neatly swept to one side. There’s a small upward tug on the corner of his lips that’s slowly spreading, and Chanyeol doesn’t mind it at all. He hated to admit this to himself, but he really missed just being around Baekhyun. There was satisfaction in just being by his friend’s side, and it felt like the unsettled butterfly in his stomach had finally found its peace again.

“Happy new year, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol breathes out, hand coming to a stop at the ends of Baekhyun’s fringe. Baekhyun doesn’t respond, only breathing in and out in a steady rhythm.

Chanyeol goes to change into his pyjamas before setting aside a glass of water, Advil pills and a plastic bag next to Baekhyun. After rolling out his sleeping bag on the floor near his bed, Chanyeol turns off the lights and tries to get some sleep before their inevitable conversation the next day.

Unfortunately, ‘the next day’ comes only a few hours later in the form of three curt knocks against his door. Chanyeol turns the other way, groaning incoherently as he scratches the itch on his face.

“Go away.” Chanyeol drawls out painfully.

There’s a brief silence that tricks Chanyeol into thinking that the nuisance outside has finally left, but then another three knocks against his door echoes loudly in his quiet flat. This time, Chanyeol shoots up, pulling his sleeping bag up to his torso as he takes unsteady steps towards the door.

He opens the door just enough to peek out. Chanyeol shouldn’t be surprised, but he still is when he finds that it is Kyungsoo standing outside with his usual blank look on his face, albeit with traces of fatigue along the downward tug on his lips.

“Kyungsoo, it’s you.” Chanyeol croaks, pulling the door open and then quickly stepping out, lest too much light from the corridor flood his room and wake Baekhyun up. Kyungsoo nods, relaxing his posture with a tired smile.

“Yeah. I did message you, but I guess you didn’t see it.” Kyungsoo replies, rubbing his hands together.

Chanyeol chuckles, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. My phone might have died over the long night. I forgot to plug it in the charger.”

Kyungsoo shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s fine. I came by to tell you that I’ve managed to bring Sehun and Yixing back. They’re next door.” and then carefully changing his tone, Kyungsoo watches Chanyeol as he says, “But Baekhyun isn’t home.”

“Oh, that’s because he’s sleeping in my flat.”

Kyungsoo blinks, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. For a split second, Chanyeol thinks that he saw hurt flash in Kyungsoo’s eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came, so Chanyeol chalks it up to the sleep that is still clouding his mind and probably his vision as well.

“Baekhyun didn’t have the keys.” Chanyeol explains, suddenly feeling awkward about it even if he didn’t think there was a reason to be awkward about it, “And it felt wrong to leave him outside when he’s this gone, so I let him sleep on my bed.”

Kyungsoo looks critically at the sleeping bag that Chanyeol was still clutching, “He’s sleeping on your bed.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you need me to help you carry him back? It must be pretty uncomfortable sleeping in a sleeping bag in your own house.” Kyungsoo offers good naturedly. Without a second thought, Chanyeol shakes his head. He pushes the door open to see Baekhyun still sleeping soundly on his bed, lips slightly apart with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Baekhyun must have tired himself out at Jongdae’s party, and if he could get some rest on Chanyeol’s bed, then sleeping in a sleeping bag honestly didn't sound like such a big sacrifice anymore. A smile creeps onto his face at the sight of Baekhyun sleeping soundly.

Chanyeol turns back to Kyungsoo, still feeling the smile sit nicely on his lips. “It’s fine. I don’t want to risk waking him up.”

Kyungsoo stares at Chanyeol with a guarded expression, not like the kind he usually wears after Chanyeol has said something stupid or when their colleagues talk shit about their boss in the pantry, but it was a different kind of stare. It felt like Kyungsoo was trying to find something in Chanyeol’s eyes, but failing to find whatever it was that he was looking for.

Kyungsoo sighs after what felt like forever, “Alright. I’ll be going home now. Take care of yourself, Chanyeol.” and then after a second thought, “And Baekhyun. Take care of him as well.”

“Yeah. Thanks Kyungsoo. Really.” Chanyeol says hesitantly.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

With that, Kyungsoo offers a smile tinged with exhaustion and sadness before he starts down the corridor in the direction of the lift. Chanyeol returns a smile of his own, stiff with discomfort. He watches Kyungsoo’s retreating back grow smaller in the distance before his smile falls, going back into his flat and closing the door with a soft click of the lock. Leaning his head against the cool metal door, Chanyeol sighs inwardly. At least Sehun and Yixing were back safely, and Baekhyun was sleeping soundly. They were all accounted for, that has to be the biggest victory of the night.

Chanyeol is dragging his heavy feet back to the bed, absentmindedly scratching his head when he hears a soft, meek voice in the otherwise quiet night.

“Was that Kyungsoo?”

Chanyeol blinks, taking a bit of time for the question to register, and then realising who asked the question.

Baekhyun. He wasn’t asleep after all?

“Yeah.” Chanyeol says after a pregnant pause. The silence stretches on with neither of them making any move to say anything. In the darkness, the quiet made time crawl by even slower, because he wasn’t able to see Baekhyun’s expressions and all he could rely on were the tone of his guarded words. It felt like Chanyeol was walking on eggshells, and Baekhyun was watching from the sidelines.

Finally, Baekhyun breaks the silence. “Do you like him?”

What?

“What?” Chanyeol mutters suddenly, the word clumsily falling out of his mouth.

“Do you like him as more than a friend?” Baekhyun says calmly, in a surprisingly measured way, “Are you interested in him?”

“Baekhyun, what’re you-”

“You told Jongdae that you thought Kyungsoo was nice. Do you like him? _Like_ like him?”

Chanyeol licks his lips nervously, hands gripping and then releasing his sleeping bag as his heart beats quickly in his chest. Suddenly, the silence felt too heavy, the cold too suffocating. From the street lamps outside casting some of its dull orange light into the room, Chanyeol can make out Baekhyun’s tiny silhouette on his bed, curled into himself like he was afraid of Chanyeol. Like as if Chanyeol held the power to hurt him, and he was waiting for it to happen. He doesn’t know what happened between them, he doesn’t know why this seems to be important to Baekhyun, he doesn’t understand so many things. It all used to be so simple, when did things get so complicated?

“Why does it matter to you?” Chanyeol breathes out.

It’s another long pause before Baekhyun says, “Because if you like him, I won’t disturb you again. I want you to be happy, Chanyeol.”

_“You made it clear that you didn’t enjoy being followed around, so I decided to wait here for you to end work.”_

_“I feel sorry that you have to spend time with me.”_

_“I know I’m a burden to you, and I’m always trying to cheer you up, I’m always trying to be someone you’d like to be around with someday. And I’m always- I’m always waiting for you! I’m always trying for you!”_

Suddenly, an indescribable rage fills Chanyeol’s chest and burns in his veins. They’re back at square one again. After everything, how could they be back at the same problem. After everything, how can Baekhyun not realise that Chanyeol is genuinely happy to be with him? Did he think that all those smiles and laughs were fake? After everything, how could Baekhyun just assume things without even bothering to talk about it?

“So what, you think that I would be happy dating someone and then you’d just fuck off like we weren’t even friends to begin with?” Chanyeol snaps, “So if I were to start dating Kyungsoo, we can’t have our Friday night movies anymore? We can’t hang out and eat ice cream and bake disastrous shit that we already knew were going to be inedible anyway? Did you think I was faking all the happiness I had in the time I spent with you?”

Baekhyun flinches visibly on the bed, but Chanyeol can’t stop the verbal diarrhoea.

“And what about you? What happens when Yixing leaves? You said all you had was Sehun, so you’d make yourself less happy if it makes me happy? That’s bullshit, Baekhyun, and you know it!”

“Why is it bullshit?” Baekhyun shouts back, sitting up on the bed, “You said before, you never wanted to be my friend anyway.”

“But that was a long time ago. You’re my friend, god damn it, Baekhyun. How could you ever have a shred of doubt in the back of your mind? How could you ever think that you weren’t important to me?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer. Instead, Chanyeol stands in the middle of the room taking in deep breaths, while Baekhyun’s face is still hidden in the dark, but the light reflecting off his sagging shoulders showed more than enough.

“You’re important to me, you know.” Chanyeol says quietly, in a defeated way, “You made me really happy. Time always passed quickly when you were here.”

Quiet, and then, “Really?”

Chanyeol nods, even if Baekhyun can’t see it, “Yeah. It was always easy to be around you. Happiness was always a given with you.” Chanyeol clenches his fist, not knowing if he should say the next few words, but deciding that fuck it, this was the only chance he would get to say it in the foreseeable future if shit doesn’t hit the fan, “I missed you, Baekhyun.”

There’s no sharp inhale of breath, no startled movements, just stillness on Baekhyun’s end. The boy remains eerily calm, looking in Chanyeol’s direction. “I missed you too, Chanyeol.”

There’s a slight waver in his voice, the only sign that Baekhyun meant it truly, sincerely. And that was enough for Chanyeol to cross the room and- in the spur of the moment- hug Baekhyun tightly. Chanyeol would have believed that it was only him that needed this hug if not for the quickly growing wet patch on his tshirt, and the muffled sniffs from the trembling boy in his arms.

“I missed you so much, Chanyeol, but I never knew how to tell you.” Baekhyun speaks softly, interrupted by hiccups, “I never knew if you were happier without me.”

Chanyeol gently pats the small of Baekhyun’s back, listening to every sob and broken sentence but never being able to give a reply that would make it okay. He watches the sky from his window turns from a black sky into varying shades of lilac and maroon, blending messily into each other but looking like a beautiful mess of colours in the sky. It really shouldn’t work as well as it does, but it looks nothing less than natural. Eventually, Baekhyun’s sobs quieten down as he wipes away his tear tracks from his cheeks.

Chanyeol pulls away, enough to see the redness in Baekhyun’s cheeks and the swell of his lips. “Feeling better?”

“Yes.” Baekhyun laughs weakly, giving Chanyeol a small smile from under his messy fringe.

Chanyeol reaches for the glass of water and advil he had prepared earlier, pressing it gently into Baekhyun’s hands, “You should probably take this. Now the water comes in handy to rehydrate you too, I guess.”

Baekhyun shrugs, but he takes the pill and water without protest. Chanyeol gives Baekhyun a stiff smile as he goes to put away the cup, and the both of them settle back uneasily, getting ready to sleep again. Except that Chanyeol isn’t really preparing to sleep, he’s piecing together and tearing apart the words that needed to be said.

“Baekhyun.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re my friend. You are important to me. You know that, right?”

It takes awhile longer before Baekhyun hums in acknowledgement, “Yeah.”

“I wish you’d just talk to me about things that bother you, you know? That’s what friends are for. I wish you had told me that I was upsetting you before things had to blow up like this.”

“I was afraid.”

Chanyeol shifts, supporting himself on his elbows as he tries to get a close look at Baekhyun. “Of what?”

“I was afraid that you’d get angry at me.” Baekhyun says reluctantly, “Kyungsoo seems important to you too. You’ve been friends with him for a longer time than you’ve known me. I wasn’t sure if I would offend you if I told you that the more time you spent with him, the more I’d miss you.”

“Well, now you know.” Chanyeol says with difficulty, feeling the words clot up in his mouth like coagulated blood. Baekhyun nods back.

“Now I know.”

“Right.” Chanyeol settles back on the floor, turning on his side in his usual sleeping position. Then the thought strikes him again. “Hey, Baekhyun?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t like him like that.” Chanyeol coughs, “Kyungsoo. I don’t. I’m not interested in him.”

“Oh.”

Even though it’s only a word, there’s a feeling that Chanyeol gets that Baekhyun was pleased by his answer. Chanyeol could see the smile growing on Baekhyun’s face even if he was facing the ceiling and not his friend. And for some reason, it made the same smile grow on his own face too, and suddenly it felt like sleep was a longtime friend welcoming him like a gracious host and not a foe. It was like as if Baekhyun’s happiness was infectious, and Chanyeol wasn’t immune to it- not that he was complaining about it.

For the first time in a while, Chanyeol could allow himself to drift to sleep with the buzz in his chest put to rest.

  
It’s not like everything magically fixes itself and goes back to the way that they were weeks before all these happened. And while it’s not like Chanyeol was expecting anything big to happen, he can’t deny that he is a bit disappointed that it is Yixing- and not Baekhyun- that he finds at the lift lobby of his office.

Chanyeol lifts a hand in confusion, “Yixing?”

“Chanyeol!” Yixing greets with an easy smile, pulling Chanyeol in for a side hug as if they’ve done this thousands of times before when really, they haven’t.

“What’re you doing here? How did you know where I _work_?”

“It’s not that hard, really. I just asked Baekhyun.”

Ah. So he asked Baekhyun, but Baekhyun never showed up.

“Baekhyun’s busy helping Sehun at the moment, by the way. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to come along.” Yixing clarifies, as if reading Chanyeol’s mind. Chanyeol openly gapes at Yixing, who gives him a playful wink before pulling his arm lightly towards the entrance. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

The quiet walk itself wasn’t what unnerved Chanyeol to his bones, but it was the relaxed sway of Yixing’s shoulders and the spring in his steps. For some reason, it made Yixing seem intimidating, even if the man looks like the embodiment of sugar, spice and everything nice, and all Chanyeol can do is stare at the duality of the man in front of him.

Then, suddenly, Yixing looks over his shoulder and catches Chanyeol’s stare. “Is there a problem?”

“No.” Chanyeol shakes his head, “But you haven’t told me why you came all the way here for.”

Yixing shrugs, “It isn’t that far.”

“It’s half an hour by bus.” Chanyeol deadpans.

“Okay, so it’s a _little_ far, but I wanted to talk to you privately while I still have the time.”

“‘Still have’?”

“Yeah.” Yixing etops walking entirely, spinning on his heels and facing Chanyeol with a regretful smile, “You see, I’m leaving Earth in a few days.”

“W-Wait, what?” Chanyeol sputters, “You’re leaving?”

He had mentioned this to Baekhyun in their heated exchange, but he never actually thought it’d happen _this_ quickly. Oh god, how close to home had he hit that night?

Yixing pauses, taking in the change in Chanyeol’s demeanor with a knowing look. There’s a small upward tug on the corner of his lips- the faintest smile that Chanyeol has ever seen on Yixing’s usually cheery face.

“It’s okay, Chanyeol. It was bound to happen sooner or later- we are not meant to stay on Earth.”

“Why not?”

“We have things to do out there, back home. This planet is a nice place to be, but,” Yixing looks down at his feet, pursing his lips together, “it is not home.”

_“This isn’t home. Home is far, far away.”_

Chanyeol looks down, wiggling his toes in his shoes with a heavy heart. “When do you leave?”

“I don’t know. Maybe in 5 days, a week?”

“Wow,” Chanyeol finally breathes out, “that’s fast.”

Yixing shrugs casually, taking a step forward and then nodding back at Chanyeol, urging him to follow. “Yeah, it’s fast. I had planned to stay longer initially, but I now know that I’m not needed around here.”

Chanyeol shoots Yixing a quizzical look, “Not needed?”

“Baekhyun already has people that he can rely on, people he trusts, people who can take care of him.”

Chanyeol’s heart skips a beat. People, not person. Not only Sehun.

Yixing casts him a knowing look, that somehow, makes Chanyeol feel queasy and slightly panicky. He averts his gaze clumsily, wondering what Yixing thinks he knows, wondering if what Yixing thinks is correct.

Yixing’s departure is a quiet affair, unbeknownst to the world except for the 3 other men standing on the rooftop, taking turns to give Yixing a goodbye hug.

Baekhyun is the first to run into Yixing’s welcoming arms, even jumping at the end and clutching onto Yixing by the neck. Yixing tightens their embrace on unsteady feet, smiling in his usual Yixing way that Chanyeol has come to learn means that he was extremely happy, even if it didn’t look it. After Baekhyun finally climbs off Yixing, Sehun strides forward, pulling Yixing into what looks like a painful hug. Yixing laughs loudly, whacking Sehun’s back equally painfully.

Even though the attention should be on Yixing, Chanyeol finds his eyes constantly wandering over to the top of Baekhyun’s head, eyebrows drawing together in a worried gaze. Yixing was the first person to bring back Baekhyun’s real laughter, and there was not a shred of doubt in Chanyeol’s mind that Yixing was important to Baekhyun. Chanyeol began to worry if Baekhyun would be sad and draw into himself after Yixing left. He couldn’t let that happen- they had only just made up for intentionally and unintentionally ignoring each other.

Lost in his thoughts, Chanyeol doesn’t notice that Sehun and Yixing have pulled away, and that Yixing was walking towards him with an affectionate smile.

Pulling Chanyeol in gently, Yixing pats Chanyeol’s head in rhythmic strokes. “Goodbye my friend.” Yixing says lightly.

Nodding into the hug, Chanyeol replies regretfully, “I’m sorry that we didn’t become friends earlier.”

“Doesn’t matter, we still became friends anyway.”

Maybe it was the simple way that Yixing views things that tickled Chanyeol. He and Baekhyun seem to have this in common. A simple outlook on life that people lost the ability to see in the process of growing up. Chanyeol breathes out a laugh, release Yixing as he steps back next to Baekhyun and Sehun.

Yixing produces a small egg-like object from his pocket, placing it between his feet before looking back at the three of them with fondness.

“I’ll see you guys soon,” Yixing says, then turning specifically to Chanyeol, “and take care of yourself, Chanyeol.”

A casual shrug, “Stay safe Yixing.”

In a blinding flash of light, Yixing is gone.

Chanyeol isn’t sure what he expected after Yixing’s departure from Earth, but he was pretty sure that Baekhyun turning around with an easy smile was not on that list.

“Wanna get some ice cream?” Baekhyun asks with a lilt in his voice. Chanyeol pauses in his shock before coming back to his senses.

“Ice cream? Yeah- sure, I-” Chanyeol lifts his cap up with one hand so he could card his other hand through his flattened hair, “Ice cream sounds nice. Yeah. Let’s have that.”

Baekhyun’s smile spreads slowly, without even a hint of sadness, as if Yixing had never left. There’s a question at the back of Chanyeol’s mind, like an itch waiting to be scratched, but he holds that thought when Sehun’s eyes light up.

“I want bubble tea.” Sehun says excitedly.

“That wasn’t even an option.” Baekhyun wrinkles his nose, “And no one invited you.”

“I invited myself.” Sehun huffs offendedly.

“Bubble tea isn’t that close to the ice cream parlor, though.” Chanyeol points out, not because he wants to be alone with Baekhyun, but because it’s true.

And maybe also a little bit of that.

Sehun crosses his arms and fixes Chanyeol a look, “It’s still the same street until the junction. We can all go together.”

But the junction is just a minute away from their apartment, and Baekhyun and Chanyeol find themselves waving to Sehun from across the road as they begin to part ways. Still, Baekhyun shows no sign of being sad, which makes Chanyeol remember that little itch that he was yearning to scratch.

“Hey, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun hums happily in reply, walking with a skip in his step. If anything, this only makes Chanyeol’s curiosity grow. How can Baekhyun- sentimental, soft-hearted Baekhyun- not be a crying mess now that Yixing has left? Weren’t they close? Shouldn’t he at least be a bit affected by Yixing’s sudden departure?

Chanyeol licks his lip, thinking of how to phrase it delicately before he gives up. Subtlety isn’t his forte.

“You’re not sad.” he says instead, and it feels like forcing slime through a filter- it’s a mess.

Baekhyun hums again, noncommittally, “Yeah. Guess not.”

Chanyeol waits a moment to see if Baekhyun was going to elaborate on it, until he realises that this is _Baekhyun_. Baekhyun likes being probbed about things, likes to know that people are interested in what he has to say, likes the feeling of being important in some way to someone. Not that Chanyeol can blame him, of course, it is a nice feeling after all.

So Chanyeol takes the bait, “Why not?”

Baekhyun hums thoughtfully, “Well, it’s not like I won’t see him ever again. I know that we’ll definitely meet again, and I don’t think there’s anything to be really sad about.”

“Not even for a lengthy separation?”

Baekhyun shakes his head, “We’ll meet again, and there’s no need to be sad about the time spent apart. I think that tears and sadness should only be reserved for the times when you know that you’ll never see someone again. That’s the only time when they’ll really have meaning, to mourn for something that’s truly lost.”

Chanyeol’s eyes soften at that. It’s easy, it’s too easy to forget that Baekhyun isn’t just a regular alien friend visiting from a distant star, but someone with his own thoughts and ideas and beliefs that are too complex to be watered down into a single label. Chanyeol does that a lot, used to do it even more. But moments like these remind him that Baekhyun is simply Baekhyun, he is more than an alien, more than anything else that Chanyeol has ever tried to fit him into.

They fall into a companionable silence, taking turns to order. This time, Baekhyun gets mint flavour, says the green colour is pretty. Chanyeol shrugs, personally he isn’t a fan of mint, but the green is a pretty colour in spring.

Halfway through their ice cream, Baekhyun takes a long lick of his flat ice cream surface, regarding Chanyeol carefully. “Are you sad?”

“Me?” Chanyeol licks a little bit of chocolate dripping on the side of his cone, glancing at Baekhyun in surprise, “I guess I am a bit sad.”

“Just a bit?”

“I didn’t get the chance to know him that well.”

Baekhyun nods, going back to licking his ice cream quietly.

It’s a late afternoon, and being a spring afternoon the heat hasn’t hit in full yet, but it’s considerably warmer than winter, which makes their ice cream melt much faster than they did in their previous regular ice cream runs. Chanyeol can see Baekhyun struggling to finish his ice cream before it drips on his fingers, can see the little children yelling at each other with big scoops in their cups, can see the couple walking their dog and going over what looks like a grocery list. It’s such a normal day, but Yixing’s departure served as a rather sharp and timely reminder that Chanyeol’s time with Baekhyun wasn’t infinite. His friend would leave one day, and life would carry on anyway.

As if he could read his mind, Baekhyun looked up again, this time with a look bordering between hopeful and caution. “Chanyeol.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you be sad if I left?”

Chanyeol stops licking his ice cream, feeling an unpleasant twinge in his chest at the words he never knew that he never wanted to hear.

 _Yes_ , Chanyeol thinks immediately, _yes, I would be more than just sad if you left_. The words are almost out of his mouth as soon as he thinks of it, because he can’t imagine going back to a life where Baekhyun wasn’t always there all the time. If he had it his way, he would want Baekhyun to stay, but when Chanyeol looks at the way Baekhyun watched him, waiting for his answer with bated breath, Chanyeol disposes of his thoughts.

If Chanyeol says yes, it would give Baekhyun a reason to stay, because Baekhyun was sentimental and caring and soft like that. But Baekhyun can’t stay, because this isn’t his home, and he was needed elsewhere.

(Not like Chanyeol didn’t need him, but this was about Baekhyun. It has always been about Baekhyun.)

“I don’t know.” he lies. He’s been doing an awful lot of that recently.

There’s a little light in Baekhyun’s eyes at extinguishes itself with Chanyeol’s reply, the way that his smile becomes just a bit tighter than it was a second ago. “Oh.” It’s almost enough to make Chanyeol want to retract his words and tell Baekhyun the truth, but he steels his nerves and goes back to finishing his ice cream.

The walk home is slightly less enjoyable than the walk to the ice cream parlor, with Baekhyun becoming a colder reticent and Chanyeol not being able to say the words that would break the silence.

 _It’s for Baekhyun_ , Chanyeol tells himself.

 _Is it really_ , a voice asks him.

He squirms at that unwanted voice nagging at the back of his head, willing it away. It does nothing to ease the guilt, though. So Chanyeol inches bit by bit towards Baekhyun, close enough for the back of their hands to brush, but not enough to linger (like he wants it to). Baekhyun’s head shoots up, a small gasp escapes from his pink lips. He’s looking at Chanyeol with a line between his brow, searching for answers to unspoken questions. Chanyeol just smiles back, hoping that Baekhyun would forgive him.

There’s a little upward tug at the edge of Baekhyun’s lips that Chanyeol now knows as, _I don’t understand, but it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it_. He knows because it’s the same smile that he gives to Baekhyun on days that Baekhyun withdraws into himself.

Just before they go back into their respective flat units, Baekhyun pauses with his hand on the knob.

“Chanyeol?”

“Hmm?”

“A while ago, you said-” a pause, Baekhyun’s grip on the doorknob tightens, knuckles going white, “You said that a date was when 2 people who liked each other went out together.”

Chanyeol feels his gut twist. “Yeah?” he says unsurely, even if he has a feeling where this is going.

Baekhyun looks up at Chanyeol, his eyes as clear as the blue sky that afternoon. “Does that mean that we went on a date today? When we went for ice cream alone?”

Chanyeol doesn’t say anything to that. For the first time since Baekhyun’s arrival, he doesn’t have an answer to his question.

Things haven’t been the same with Kyungsoo ever since Jongdae’s New Years party. It’s not the silence and ice between them that gets under Chanyeol’s skin the most, but not knowing what happened in the first place, because everything was okay then, so why does it feel like they’re back to being only colleagues on a last name basis?

Chanyeol packs his bag, warily eyeing the calm and collected way that Kyungsoo is packing his work station, meticulously arranging his files into a neat stack. It’s the same as he’s always done; check that the laptop is off, then collect his pen into the wooden container that Chanyeol bought him a few months ago, and finally stack all his loose papers together in labelled bundles. The only difference now is the smallest detail that, ironically, makes all the difference: Kyungsoo never spared Chanyeol even the briefest glance throughout.

Chanyeol frowns when Kyungsoo slings his bag over one shoulder, pushing in his roller chair. It almost looks as if Kyungsoo was about to make a beeline towards the exit when he turns abruptly to Chanyeol, finally looking him square in the eye with an unreadable expression.

Chanyeol opens his mouth to greet Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo beats him to it.

“Do you want to get dinner tonight?”

Chanyeol freezes, suddenly unsure of what he wanted to say in the first place. There’s still no hint of what Kyungsoo is thinking.

“Um, sure.” Chanyeol says, scratching his temple in nervousness, “Where would you like to go tonight?”

Kyungsoo lowers his eyes as he turns around, walking off ahead of Chanyeol. “I was thinking of going back to that udon shop.” he says tonelessly. Chanyeol takes big strides to close the gap between them.

“Okay, that’s great. That’s perfect, actually. I missed that place.” Chanyeol bends a bit to try and make eye contact with Kyungsoo, forces himself to sound more enthusiastic to make up for the lack of it from his companion, “Hey, wasn’t that the place we ate at the first time we had dinner together?”

Kyungsoo nods curtly, subtly, “Yeah.” is all he says, keeping his eyes trained forward.

Chanyeol knows Kyungsoo too well not to know that Kyungsoo flinched at the way his words came out, harsh and clipped. Kyungsoo probably never meant for it to come out the way that it did, but Kyungsoo doesn’t apologise for it either. He just looks guilty to the side, never quite meeting Chanyeol’s eyes, never intending to.

Chanyeol gives up on making eye contact on their long walk to the little bistro, always keeping a step or two behind Kyungsoo despite having much longer legs. The quiet between them is an uninvited visitor that has overstayed his welcome, but Chanyeol doesn’t know how to get rid of it, isn’t so sure that Kyungsoo wants to get rid of it anymore.

They settle into the corner booth seat uneasily, Chanyeol fiddling with the dog-eared pages of the menu while Kyungsoo flips through it in a cool manner, eyes glossing over the words they already knew by heart. It takes a while longer before Kyungsoo closes the menu, sliding it away from him and raising his brow at Chanyeol in a silent question.

“Yeah, I’m ready to order.” Chanyeol answers softly.

Dinner itself was a quiet affair with every passing second feeling like a second closer to a detonating bomb. Kyungsoo has fallen back into himself, and while Chanyeol tries his best to make up for the lack of conversation between them, it is a foreign feeling to be sitting across his good friend and feel like the eggshell he was walking on was breaking. Eventually, Chanyeol’s words fade away with Kyungsoo’s unresponsiveness.

Kyungsoo, for his passive and almost disinterested behaviour, insists on paying for dinner, even when it is Chanyeol’s turn to pay.

“Please.” Kyungsoo says, a firm plea. And that was that.

It’s only after they step out of the shop that Kyungsoo starts to talk again. It doesn’t start with a normal conversation starter, but a question.

“Walk with me?”

It isn’t late, not as late as what they’re used to with mundane conversations after a warm meal on a work day, but it feels like they’re both more tired than usual. Still, this is Kyungsoo asking him, and Chanyeol doesn’t have the heart to say no. He nods, not really sure what else there is to say. At this point, he’s letting Kyungsoo lead them wherever, and he would just have to pray that things get better along the way.

The night gets progressively colder- not uncommon seeing as spring isn’t exactly around the corner yet- and people filter through the park quickly, eager to get out of the cold and into somewhere warmer. Kyungsoo just keeps walking, taking steady strides with his eyes glued to the ground a step ahead of him. Silence from Kyungsoo is something Chanyeol had grown comfortable with long ago, but not prolonged silence like this, where Kyungsoo couldn’t even so much as look in Chanyeol’s direction. It’s worrisome. There’s a sinking feeling in his gut that’s telling him to prepare for something bad to happen.

And then Kyungsoo stops walking, turns around slowly with an indecipherable look in his eyes. The sinking feeling grows heavier.

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says cautiously, trying to maintain his calm when worry is eating him from the inside, “what’s the matter? You’ve been acting strange all day.”

Kyungsoo chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slowly in a chastising manner, “You were always too worried about others-”

“Kyungsoo?”

“-And I guess that’s why I like you so much.”

Chanyeol’s breath hitches, but it’s not because he didn’t know, but god, he knew. Chanyeol has _known_. All those times when Kyungsoo thought that he was being subtle, but it was because he was always so subtle that made even the smallest action a big giveaway. All those dinners, the way his eyes lingered across the room, the way he picked up his phone even at 3AM because Chanyeol called. All this time, everyone else thought that Chanyeol was just being oblivious to it, but the truth was that Chanyeol has always known, but chose to ignore it until it became something he couldn’t ignore anymore. Until it led to this moment.

He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Kyungsoo looks down again with a sad smile playing on his lips, waning. “No, that’s why I love you. Because you’re always so full of love for others. Because you’re always caring for others, always giving everything your best effort, even when you deserve so much more than you ever got.”

Kyungsoo glances up at Chanyeol before looking away again. Chanyeol’s mouth goes dry.

“How long?”

“Since the Christmas party at yours.” Kyungsoo says softly. Jesus, that party was two years ago.

Chanyeol cards a hand through his hair, tugging softly at the locks. “Kyungsoo-”

“I love you, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo interrupts firmly, looking at Chanyeol with eyes glistening with unshed tears, “I have loved you for two years. Whenever I feel drained from work, it’s your late night calls that give me a pleasant sleep. It’s the thought of your smile that I try to bake new recipes. I always thought that I could just be your friend, I always wanted to stay by your side, and I foolishly believed that was enough. For two years, I was contented to just be like this. But seeing someone come in, seeing someone put that smile on your face with just a text message, seeing someone sleep in your bed, it all made me realise that I really wanted something more. I want to be the person who can make you smile on the darkest days, I want to be the person who you’ll come to and cry, I want to be the person you wake up and think of in the mornings.”

A quiet sob, before he continues with crumbling determination, “Because that’s who you are to me.”

Distantly, Chanyeol can hear the sharp laughter of a high school couple passing through the park. The air is crisp against his skin and it sinks down heavily on his shoulders, a weight that doesn’t stop growing heavier.

The truth was, Chanyeol knows. He knows the way that Kyungsoo feels about him, he knows the way Kyungsoo feels when he sees someone who he wants to be around often; he knows it better than anyone else, because he’s had to live without it for a few weeks that dragged on like an eternity.

Instead of a perfect heart shaped lips and a husky laughter, it is eyes in half moons and a rectangular smile that comes to mind. He could lie to Kyungsoo, give them a try, but when he opens his eyes again and finds his friend holding his heart out for Chanyeol to accept or reject, he knows that he can’t do that to Kyungsoo.

Once upon a time, Chanyeol would have said accepted Kyungsoo’s feelings for him, but that moment has long passed.

He opens his mouth, willing himself to say it. His tongue feels like lead in his mouth, and the words tastes like ashes. “I’m sorry.”

Kyungsoo lowers his head, but Chanyeol can see a few teardrops fall.

“I don’t love you the way you love me.” Chanyeol says after a beat, clenching his hands at his side, “You’ll always be the friend I talk to, the friend I eat with. You’re my good friend, you’re important to me, but I’m sorry that I can’t ever see you as anything more.”

It takes a long pause before Kyungsoo brings a hand up to his face, wiping his tears away with his fingers, “It’s okay.” he says. It’s not. “I knew that this was coming.”

Kyungsoo looks up with pink cheeks and tears that glisten like jewels under the streetlight, a shaky smile that looks a second away from tearing itself, “It’s okay.”

It takes all of Chanyeol’s willpower not to close the gap between them and give his friend a hug, not to cry knowing that he is hurting his friend. But he doesn’t do any of it because it’s not fair for him to cry when Kyungsoo is the one who is hurting, it’s not fair for him to hug Kyungsoo and say that he can’t ever fall in love him. So he stays planted where he is with a heart that is breaking slowly, chipping off at the edges with every drop of tear that Kyungsoo sheds.

“Are we going to be okay?” Chanyeol asks. He’s got to know this at least.

Kyungsoo nods unsurely, forcing out a laugh that sounds more like a harsh exhale of breath. “Yeah. We’ll be okay. Not now, but someday.”

And that’s enough for Chanyeol to offer Kyungsoo a weak smile in return. They don’t hug, they don’t say goodbye, but Chanyeol watches Kyungsoo make his way back before he heads home himself, feeling thoroughly beaten.

It’s only when Chanyeol reaches home that he allows himself to start feeling again, to let loose the dam of emotions waiting to burst. As he pushes his door open, a choked sob rips its way out of his throat just as he finds Baekhyun on his belly, flipping through whatever magazine he bought today.

“Hey Chanyeol, you’re back late-” Baekhyun says happily, looking up with a brilliant smile before it slips. Baekhyun pushes himself up, slowly padding across the room with worried eyes. Tentatively, Baekhyun reaches up to cup Chanyeol’s face between his warm hands. “What’s wrong?” he says delicately.

Chanyeol shakes his head, allowing some tears to escape. He brings his own hand up to clasp Baekhyun’s, leaning into the gentle touch. Baekhyun’s eyes soften, wiping away the stray tears with his thumbs but remaining otherwise silent. Somewhere between the time that he started crying and Baekhyun’s wordless comfort, Chanyeol finds his face in the crook of Baekhyun’s neck, leaning over slightly awkwardly given their height difference, but the small hand rubbing circles into his back makes the ache worth it.

He lets Baekhyun tug him towards the bed, carefully maneuvering their bodies so that Baekhyun’s chest is firmly behind Chanyeol’s back. Chanyeol can feel the steady rhythm of Baekhyun’s heart, the warm hand on his belly that reminds him to breathe, the ends of Baekhyun’s hair tickling the back of his neck. It calms him down, ground him to the present. He’s no longer standing in the park, he’s on the bed with Baekhyun by his side, making soft sounds to lull Chanyeol to sleep.

And it works. Chanyeol feels the inevitable pull of sleep, and as the world starts to fade the only thought he has is that maybe he understands a bit of what Kyungsoo meant earlier.

  
“Aw, fuck, no.” Jongdae cries, throwing his cards on the table to rub tiredly at his face. Chanyeol sighs, throwing in his, admittedly, lousy hand as well. Jongdae straightens his spine, leaning over with narrowed eyes and a sharp gaze directed at Sehun, “Are you sure that you’re new at this? Are you sure that you’ve never played poker before?”

Sehun smiles all too innocently, picking up the cards scattered across the floor with an eerie calmness to his actions.

“Fucking liar.” Jongdae groans. Chanyeol’s lip twitch upwards in amusement.

“Maybe Sehun really is new at this,” because he _is_ new to poker, “and is just really good at poker.” Chanyeol points out, leaning back on his palms, “Or maybe your poker face just sucks.”

“I don’t want to hear that coming from you.”

Chanyeol laughs, rubbing a spot on his chest faking his hurt. Baekhyun laughs the loudest among them, helping Sehun to collect the last of the stray cards. They’re sitting side by side with their thighs close enough to touch when there’s plenty of space around them, but Baekhyun doesn’t say a word, so neither does Chanyeol. Quietly, he appreciates the warmth of Baekhyun’s skin against his, the way he vibrates with energy next to him.

It almost makes him forget the guilt eating him when he’s alone.

Baekhyun reaches across Chanyeol’s lap for the bag of chips, frowning when all he manages to pick up are crumbs.

Suddenly, flashes of Kyungsoo’s pained expression fills his mind, and Baekhyun’s touch burns his skin like a fire out of control. Trying not to draw suspicion to himself, Chanyeol eases himself out from under Baekhyun’s body, straightening his crumpled shirt to make it look more natural. “Alright, I’m going to get us more food.”

“Good call,” Jongdae says, lifting his cup while batting his eyelashes at Chanyeol, “more rootbeer.”

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose, “Root beer.”

“Hey, that’s offensive. What’s your problem with root beer?”

Chanyeol sighs, prying the empty cup from Jongdae and retreating into the kitchen, leaving Baekhyun and Jongdae to continue their disagreement without him. Instead of taking out more snacks and refilling the cup, however, Chanyeol puts the cup in the sink and hands on the edge, leaning forward with a heaviness he’s been trying to ignore for days. He sighs again, more troubled.

Chanyeol closes his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. He doesn’t hear when Sehun joins him, leaning against the sink with his arms folded across his chest.

Sehun coughs once in lieu of a greeting, but the abruptness shocks Chanyeol.

“Sehun.” Chanyeol whispers harshly, stepping back to put more distance between them, “What’re you doing here?”

Still wearing an unimpressed look, Sehun raises a brow, “I think the question is what are _you_ doing here?” then side-glancing at the empty cup in the sink.

“I was going to refill Jongdae’s cup.”

“Right.” Sehun agrees, although it hardly sounds like one. He sets Chanyeol a look as he asks, “Are you okay?”

“What?”

“Are you okay? You’ve been acting weird recently.”

“Yeah. I’m-” a pause, “I’m fine. I’ve been okay.”

“Yeah, you’re okay. But you’re not okay.” Sehun’s looks softens imperceptibly in a way that is distinctly Sehun, “It’s okay to not be okay all the time, you know. We’re just worried about you.” Sehun’s gazes flickers briefly to Baekhyun, who is talking animatedly with Jongdae, “Especially Baekhyun.”

“Did he tell you anything?”

“No, he didn’t tell me anything. By the looks of it I don’t think that anything bad happened between the both of you, either.”

There’s an unspoken invitation for Chanyeol to talk with the promise of Sehun’s silence. Here is a man who, while Chanyeol isn’t close to, is willing to listen to his problems without passing judgement and not talk about it to anyone else. Here is Sehun with his sincere concern for Chanyeol, with all his subtle actions that, really, mattered more than whatever had to be said anyway.

Chanyeol hangs his head between his shoulders, “A friend confessed that he liked me a few days ago. Liked me more than a friend.”

“What did you say to that?”

“I couldn’t accept his feelings.”

Sehun’s eyebrows draw close together.

“I don’t love him the way that he loves me. Honestly, I don’t think I can ever see myself loving him like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like holding hands with him, or waking up with him next to me, or coming home to him. It’s weird to imagine.”

“Baekhyun’s here when you come back.” Sehun points out.

“But that’s _different_.” Chanyeol says a bit too defensively. Even when Sehun’s expression doesn’t change, Chanyeol can see the hint of scepticism in his eyes. “It’s _Baekhyun_.”

Sehun hardly looks convinced, but he takes it anyway. “Okay, so you rejected your friend because you don’t return his feelings. Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because I hurt him.”

“Given another chance to redo it, would you have lied to him by accepting his feelings?’

Chanyeol presses his lips into a tight line. “You know I wouldn’t.”

“Your honesty was the best thing that you could have given him, a clean cut. Hurting him was a given whether you chose to accept his feelings or not: if you had accepted it and he found out later on that you never felt the same way about him, it would have hurt him even more deeply. You did the right thing in giving him your honesty. It doesn’t always feel good, but it was for the best.”

“That’s an awfully nice way of putting things.” Chanyeol mumbles more to himself than for Sehun to hear, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous habit.

“It is what it is.”

Chanyeol smiles at Sehun’s simple answer, “Thank you for that.”

“I should be the one thanking you for taking care of us.”

“After the party at Jongdae’s? It’s alright- I would have done it for any of my friends.”

“No.” Sehun shakes his head, relaxing his stance as he crosses a long leg over the other, “Not just for that, but for everything else. I guess most of all for taking care of Baekhyun when I wasn’t around.”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me there.” Chanyeol cocks his head to the side.

“He isn’t supposed to go out of the house much since he’s lost his power. It would make him especially vulnerable if an enemy found him and attacked. It’s like attaching a bullseye to yourself and providing the enemy with infinite number of darts to shoot you with- once they start coming, they don’t ever stop.” Sehun worries his lip between his teeth, hesitating for a split second, “I was worried that Baekhyun would start to grow restless from being cooped up all the time, and I was worried that he would grow lonely as well. I couldn’t keep him company as I have to fulfill my own purpose, and I didn’t want to express this concern to him because I didn’t want to make him feel worse than he must have felt at that time. But then you came along, and whenever you were around it was like as if you were this ball of fire that breathed life back into him. His smiles and laughter were all genuine, and you did it just by being around him. It eased my worries a lot.”

Chanyeol nods silently, rubbing his hands together when Sehun looks back at him and flashes him the biggest, most grateful smile that Chanyeol has ever seen. It felt like a burst of warmth spreading through his belly.

“Thank you.” Sehun says earnestly.

Chanyeol can't help the smile that spreads across his face, “You know, we should probably all go out somewhere one day. A change of scenery might do Baekhyun even more good.”

Sehun returns the smile, eyes crinkling at the side, “Got any good ideas?”

Chanyeol turns to look out the kitchen at the foot of his bed, where Jongdae and Baekhyun are both locked in a match of armwrestling on the floor. From the look of anguish on Jongdae’s face and a wicked grin on Baekhyun’s face, it’s easy to tell who’s the winning party between them.

“Yeah, I got one.”

It’s a long 3 hour drive to the beach, but it feels much shorter than that. Chanyeol guesses that a large part of it is because of how restless Baekhyun is next to him, wiggling in his seat and peering out the window, waving to every car they pass by. Sometimes, a passenger or driver in a passing truck will wave back at Baekhyun bemusedly, and that’s when Baekhyun jumps in his seat.

Sehun sits quietly at the back, staring out the window wearing a nostalgic look. Chanyeol glances at Sehun through the mirror, “Are you alright? Do you need a pee break?”

Sehun meets Chanyeol’s gaze in the rearview mirror, giving him a reassuring smile and a minute shake of his head, “No, I’m fine. The car is much more comfortable than the bus. I was just enjoying the quiet.”

Chanyeol’s gaze shifts to Baekhyun, still humming a tune under his breath, lost in his own little world. Baekhyun looks every bit like a child, moving his body in tune with the song only he can hear with wandering eyes and what seems to be a permanent smile on his face. But for reasons unknown, Chanyeol still feels like even though Baekhyun seems to be open about everything, there’s always a part of him that he hides away in the the corner of his heart where no one knows even exists. Maybe it wasn’t something Baekhyun does consciously, maybe he doesn’t even know there exists such a dark space, but Chanyeol can feel it.

Baekhyun turns, catching Chanyeol’s guarded expression. “You’re staring.”

Chanyeol turns away, “I’m not. I’m driving, can’t be distracted.”

Baekhyun looks like he wants to push the argument, but he turns away at the last second, falling into a quiet that wasn’t there before. Chanyeol side-glances at Baekhyun again before he gives up, sighing inwardly. There it is again.

Sehun looks between them before he sighs, resting his chin on his palm as he looks out the window as well.

The journey to the beach remains quiet for the rest of the time, which thankfully wasn’t long seeing that they were already near their destination before Baekhyun got all weird. Surprisingly, Sehun is the one who jumps out of the car, running towards the open sea with wide arms and sluggish movements. Chanyeol rarely sees Sehun smile, but in the moment Sehun looks so liberated from every care and worry he ever had, with his eyes in crescents and a wide smile across his face.

Chanyeol watches Sehun throw himself onto the bed of sand with his limbs spread in different directions, eyes squinting up at the cloudy sky before he closes them in bliss.

A few seconds later, Baekhyun gets out of the car and shuts it with a soft ‘bang’. His gaze meets Chanyeol’s before it darts away, looking at Sehun with quiet wonder as he goes around the car and pads away from Chanyeol quietly, headed towards the shoreline. Chanyeol trails behind, feeling useless and at a loss for what to say.

Chanyeol passes by Sehun, who opens his eyes immediately, as if he was counting down for this moment.

“You look troubled. Are you?” Sehun asks as cool as ever. Chanyeol shrugs, trying to look casual about it.

“Not really, no.”

Sehun nods, even though there is skepticism in his movement. “It’s a cloudy day.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol nods dazedly, looking up at the sky as the wind blows in his face, messing up his hair and throwing his fringe everywhere, “it’s really windy too.”

“Exactly. I’m happy.” Sehun says, closing his eyes again as he relaxes on the cold sand, “It affects our mood, you know?”

“What does?” Chanyeol asks, not knowing what Sehun was talking about all of a sudden.

“Being with our source of power.” Sehun replies, “It lifts my mood up a lot when I can feel the wind. It gives me energy and washes away the exhaustion I feel. It’s rejuvenating.”

Chanyeol’s gaze trails off to Baekhyun, standing at the edge of the shoreline where the waves rush up, trying to chase him but falling back into the ocean when they fail.

“What happens if you lose your power?”

“Don’t know. It’s the first time that it’s happened. To be honest, I’m not really sure if he’ll be able to get it back.” Sehun whispers the last sentence morosely, eyes fluttering to the lonely silhouette standing against the waves stoically.

Chanyeol looks over his shoulder with a strange feeling in the pit of his gut. The waves crash against the shoreline again with a loud chorus of claps, washing away any footprints or little articles that lay idle. With the dull sun rays shining through the thick clouds, Baekhyun truly looks like a lost person, one man against the world.

The wind blows again, a soft caress, a gentle tug on the string that connects Chanyeol and Baekhyun. Only this time, it isn’t Baekhyun who moves, but Chanyeol.

When he stands next to Baekhyun, the smaller doesn’t so much as glance in his direction, only looking ahead, lost in his own thoughts.

“Hey, are you alright?” Chanyeol asks softly, looking ahead at the troubled surface, crashing into each other in unsynchronised movements and then disappearing into ripples that don’t last a moment.

“Okay?” Baekhyun repeats calmly, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Chanyeol tilts his head just enough to see the blank look on Baekhyun’s face, so void of emotion, yet so expressive of the mess of feelings brewing underneath.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know. It’s normal. It’s okay to let yourself fall apart every once in a while.”

“But there’s nothing to cry over. I’m not dying, I’m not even injured.” Baekhyun says, “There’s no reason to be sad, but you know, Chanyeol, it feels like there isn’t a reason to be happy either.”

There it is, finally out in the open. Now that it is, Chanyeol doesn’t know if he should be glad for it.

“Well, why not?” Chanyeol asks, offering Baekhyun a tight smile. Baekhyun looks at Chanyeol and then shakes his head, chuckling derisively.

“I’ve lost my power, Chanyeol. The one thing that makes me, me. It’s gone, and I’m hundreds of thousands of miles away from home in a place that I don’t belong in.” Baekhyun takes a long pause, carefully removing any traces of emotion from his voice as he continues, “Earth is a beautiful place to be. There are no oceans this big on Exoplanet, the sky doesn’t light up as brightly as it does here, flowers do not bloom as abundantly over there as well. But no matter how much more beauty this world has to offer, this is not my home. I miss my home, along with all its flaws. I miss my family. I miss living a life that I could call mine.”

For someone speaking about something so personal, Baekhyun does it in such a detached manner that Chanyeol could have mistaken him for narrating a story- but even when he’s telling a story, Baekhyun isn’t as cold as he is now. That’s how Chanyeol knows that everything he just spilled were his true feelings about his situation. It’s only in this moment that Chanyeol realises why he always felt that Baekhyun was hiding behind the facade of a happy boy, curious about his world and optimistic about everything. It was because he knew that he didn’t belong here, yet couldn’t leave because he didn’t just lose his power, but he lost his identity along with it. All those years he grew up with his power, learning to control it, creating a purpose in life, only to have everything taken from him.

He doesn’t look like a lost person, he is lost, and not just physically.

Chanyeol’s gaze softens as it falls to Baekhyun’s hand. Chanyeol reaches out, almost interlocking their hands together only to pull away at the last second, quickly pulling his own hand back to himself and through his hair. He sighs heavily.

“But Baekhyun,” Chanyeol begins slowly, tenderly, weighing every word he was about to say and making sure that they wouldn’t shatter the fragile ground they were standing on, “you _are_ you, with your power or not.”

Baekhyun looks up with a questioning line between his brows.

“When I first met you, you introduced yourself to me with an arm that was hanging by a few strands of muscle and a lot of goo pooling around your body. You told me that you were Byun Baekhyun. That’s the Byun Baekhyun I know- someone without his powers, someone vulnerable but still keeping an open heart, willing to trust a stranger to save his life. To me, your powers are an extension of who you are, but it is not the whole of you.” Chanyeol breathes in deeply, willing himself to hold eye contact with Baekhyun, “You are Byun Baekhyun, the nosy neighbour that moved in next door to me, my friend who I grew to enjoy spending time with watching space movies and baking inedible food with; and even when you’re no longer nosy or even if the day comes that you miracuously cook something edible, you’ll still be my friend then. Because you’re Byun Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun opens his mouth, lowering his gaze. Chanyeol feels anxiety eat away at his nerves, waiting for Baekhyun to just say something.

In an almost inaudible voice, Chanyeol says, “You don’t need fixing. You don’t need to be anything else. You’re more than enough.”

Then, Baekhyun looks at Chanyeol in the peculiar way that he does when he’s thinking about something secret. “Having too much of something is never a good thing.”

“Can never have too much of a good thing.”

“Wow, you really know how to flatter a guy, huh?” Baekhyun laughs, a deep rumble through his chest. Tipping his head back with his eyelids fluttering shut, Baekhyun basks in the dimming sunset, with clouds scurrying away as if ith their own secrets to tell. With the clearing sky, there’s the hidden mix of purple and pink and orange splattered across like a messy paint job, but it’s a beautiful mess that Chanyeol wishes he could memorise. He tries his best, anyway, staring at Baekhyun’s peaceful expression with the dying sunlight in the background. It’s as close to a perfect work of art as Chanyeol will ever get to see.

“It’s beautiful.” Chanyeol breathes out, breaking the perfect silence between them, “The sunset.”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun opens his eyes slowly, half-lidded eyes watching a flock of birds pass by in the distance, “I used to feel the light. Before I, you know, lost my power.”

“Oh? What did it feel like?”

There’s a fond smile that graces Baekhyun’s pink lips, a faraway look in his eyes as he says, “It felt like warm and dry towels fresh out of the dryer. It felt like the warmth after a long cloudy winter day. It felt like being enveloped in a big hug after a long day.”

“That sounds nice.” Chanyeol says.

“Yeah. I never really appreciated the way sunsets looked before because it meant that the light was fading, and that was really sad.” Baekhyun slots his hands into the pockets of his jeans, squaring his shoulders as a breeze passes, “I guess it takes losing some to gain some, right?” Baekhyun laughs, mirthful yet regretful, “I wish I could have appreciated sights like this before I lost my power, though. It would have been nice to experience this.”

Chanyeol hums thoughtfully, shrugging off his sweater and draping it over Baekhyun’s smaller frame. Baekhyun looks up, surprised.

“What?”

“You look cold.” Chanyeol explains easily, “You should take my sweater. Catching a cold during summer sucks.”

Baekhyun says nothing to that, just slot his arms into the long and still warm sleeves and hugs it close to his chest. Chanyeol smiles. It’s at least two sizes bigger than Baekhyun, but it looks good on him anyway. He likes the way that Baekhyun makes wearing his clothes look like the most natural thing to happen.

They both turn back to watch the last ray of light die like a weak flame fighting in the harsh wind, afraid that the moment might pass too quickly.

It’s a long while later when Baekhyun closes the small gap between them, hesitantly reaching out for Chanyeol’s hands. The sleeves are longer than Baekhyun’s arm, and it swallows his hands so that there’s a flappy part of the sleeves where his arms end. Baekhyun gazes at Chanyeol from under his fringe, seeking permission to hold onto his hand.

Chanyeol smiles and that’s all the answer that Baekhyun needs to gently tug his fingers into the sleeves, slotting his fingers into the gaps like matching pieces of jigsaw. Baekhyun looks at their hands, covered by the sleeves so that it’s impossible to tell where one begins and where the other ends, and the smile doesn’t stop growing.

“Cause it’s too cold for you here, and now, let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater.” Baekhyun sings.

Chanyeol laughs, tipping his chin towards his chest where he would usually cover his open mouth with a hand. But he wasn’t going to break the contact, so he lowered his face enough that his smile would be partially hidden. “This is my sweater.”

“You passed it to me, it’s mine now.”

“You already have Sehun’s jacket.”

“It’s not as comfortable as this.” Baekhyun refutes, swinging their arms. “I like this sweater.”

Chanyeol smiles, adjusting the sweater on Baekhyun so that it doesn’t fall off his shoulders as much.

“I guess you can keep it, then. If you like it that much.”

“You letting me keep the things I like?”

“That depends on what you’re asking.”

“Can I keep you, then?”

Chanyeol’s hand goes stiff against Baekhyun’s shoulder, smile falling off his face with the weight of the words.

_Yes, you can._

“Baekhyun.. It’s not that simple.”

“It doesn’t always have to be complicated.” Baekhyun whispers, releasing one of Chanyeol’s hand to cup his cheek instead, and god, Chanyeol tries not to lean into the touch, but he can’t help it. In a voice just above a breath carried away by the breeze, Baekhyun says, “All you have to do is say yes or no.”

Chanyeol closes his eyes, “Doesn’t matter what my answer is, Baekhyun. You know that.”

Because whether he says yes or no, Baekhyun will leave one day. It doesn’t matter what he says or does, their days are numbered and the clock is ticking.

Baekhyun’s thumb gently caresses his skin like he’s made of porcelain. “Don’t care, your answer is the only thing that matters.”

“Baekhyun-”

“I’ll stay.” Baekhyun interrupts, and Chanyeol’s eyes spring open, darting down to find Baekhyun staring at him like he’s the only thing worth looking at in the whole universe, “If you say yes, I’ll stay. I’ll stay for you. All you need to do is say yes.”

Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun, holds the eye contact before he lets his eyelids flutter shut, bringing his hand to cover Baekhyun’s on his cheek, leaning into the touch.

“You’re not playing fair.” Chanyeol mumbles into Baekhyun’s hand.

“All’s fair in love and war.” Baekhyun chuckles humourlessly.

Chanyeol doesn’t reply him, only opens his eyes to look at Baekhyun, to memorise the way that his hair whips his face in the growing wind, to see the way the moonlight throws half his face into the shadows, sees way that Baekhyun looks back at him with his heart breaking with every second that Chanyeol doesn’t say anything. And Chanyeol _can’t_. He can’t be selfish. Baekhyun is a dream that came to late and passed too quickly- never his to keep.

Time seems to flow differently after the beach. His days come and go as usual, and he only really keeps tracks of the days with the activities he does. On Mondays, he and Baekhyun and Sehun will have dinner together over some chick flicks or Blue Planet (because Sehun loves chick flicks but also cries a lot at Blue Planet, which confuses Chanyeol as much as it amuses him). On Wednesdays, the three of them go for supper at the nearby convenience store that’s 24/7, just because Baekhyun wants to reenact a Korean drama he’s been following. And on Sundays he goes cafe hopping with Jongdae, and sometimes Yoona comes along because after another casual outing (as _friends_ ) he finds that they have chemistry and end up becoming friends who keep in touch and hang out once in awhile.

But on Fridays, though, Fridays are the days that Chanyeol spends exclusively with Baekhyun. He’ll order pizza on the way home, so that by the time he reaches his flat, he’ll find Baekhyun browsing through the movies selection on Netflix before he walks through the door, and Baekhyun will look up with an expectant smile on his face.

They eat together with their arms and thighs pressed together, skin on skin, with pizza slices clearly divided on separate sides of the box. Sometimes Baekhyun will lean closer and closer, until his head is resting on Chanyeol’s broad shoulders, and sometimes Chanyeol will allow his head to rest on the top of Baekhyun’s. It’s a hard fought victory, it’s a balance between wanting more and wanting to maintain the status quo, but Chanyeol is more than content with the way that things are between them now. There’s a kind of mutual understanding that this is their time, this is their thing, which is why Sehun never pops by, or Jongdae never calls in the middle of the night.

Sometimes, Baekhyun goes back at the crack of dawn, after a long night of exchanging stories and jokes and lingering touches that shouldn’t have lasted as long as they did. Most of the time, Baekhyun falls asleep with a thin trail of drool pooling on Chanyeol’s shoulder.

On hindsight, Chanyeol should have known. He met Sehun on a regular day, and Baekhyun came to him on an unmemorable day. It’s always the unsuspecting days that turn out to be the turning points of his life. It’s always the quiet lull that pulls him into a peaceful slumber, the moments where everything is in its right place. But he should have known that life was a continuous wave that doesn’t end at the crests, no matter how long they may seem to last.

Baekhyun’s breathing has evened out next to him by the time that the credits start rolling. Chanyeol closes the tab on his laptop and puts his laptop aside, careful not to move his feet too much from where it’s tangled with Baekhyun, before he moves Baekhyun’s body so that he can sleep without waking up to a crick in his neck.

It’s nothing new to see Baekhyun curled up in his sheets like it’s the most natural thing, but it always takes Chanyeol a moment to stare and realise that this is actually real, that Baekhyun trusts him like this, that they have progressed this far in their friendship. And it warms his heart when he thinks of all the moments that Baekhyun and him have shared, private or in the company of other people, because for the first time in a long time, he finally feels like the restlessness in him has settled down. The long search was coming to an end, or maybe it never really begun until he met Baekhyun.

He knows what this is, and as much as it sends a warm shiver through him, it scares him to know that this is what it is.

Chanyeol pads across the room to switch off the light, turning around just to take another look at the peaceful and vulnerable expression on Baekhyun’s face, committing it to memory.

And then it all goes to shit.

In all honesty, Chanyeol shouldn’t really be surprised that it happens on yet another unsuspecting day, but he still is. It’s not everyday that your door explodes and sends you flying a few feet from where you were standing. He feels the force of it first, then sees the room tilting, sending the floor towards his face- or rather, him towards the floor. It’s only after he lands face first that the sound registers in his mind like a faraway crash, drowned out by the sharp piercing ringing that doesn’t go away. The world is spinning and his head is ringing and god, his leg hurts and doesn’t even look like it’s supposed to be twisted in this direction. What the hell?

Chanyeol attempts to prop himself up on an elbow, but even that hurts too and he stumbles back onto the floor like a rag doll. And then something hard, something metal, presses into his back, forcing him back on the ground. From this angle, Chanyeol can only see Baekhyun hiding behind the bed, looking at Chanyeol with so much fear and anxiety that Chanyeol’s guts twists and twists until it's in knots. The fear isn’t for Baekhyun himself, it’s for Chanyeol, because Baekhyun is powerless and unable to defend Chanyeol, and Chanyeol doesn’t blame him. If there was going to be a casualty, 1 was better than 2.

The metal against his back presses into his back further, and this time Chanyeol cries out, a scratchy sound like an animal in distress. From the corner of his eye, he can see the effort that Baekhyun makes not to cry, hands trying to reach for Chanyeol but stopping short of coming into the vision of whatever is on him.

There’s the sound of metal whirring, and then sharp sounds like blades slicing through the air in search of something. Turning his head as far back as possible, Chanyeol can see a metal oval machine with knife-like claws for limbs, cutting through his furniture and spinning around, doing a full scan for every object he demolishes. Chanyeol’s eyes drifts back to Baekhyun’s discreetly, and then he sees the helplessness in Baekhyun’s eyes fading into determination.

Chanyeol’s wants to vomit, wants to scream if it didn’t mean putting Baekhyun in danger. That wasn’t the look of a man watching his friend in danger, that was the look of a man who was going to put himself in danger.

Chanyeol shakes his head, barely muffling his tears when Baekhyun shakes his own in a calm way, betrayed only by the redness around his eyes.

Then Baekhyun jumps out from behind the bed, carefully avoiding the sharp claws like he’s done it a million times before. The machine reels back in surprise, hands momentarily releasing its grip on Chanyeol long enough for him to roll out from under it. It makes a screeching noise, keening in the silence of the night as it tries to pull Baekhyun away from its monitor, and in its panic one of its knife-like claws lodges itself on the ground next to Chanyeol’s face, leaving a deep cut on his left cheek.

“Chanyeol!” Baekhyun yells, “Get out of here!”

“Not without you!” Chanyeol yells back, trying to avoid the swinging limbs as best as he can, “I’m not leaving you behind!”

Baekhyun grits his teeth in frustration, doing his best to tear at the metal with his bare hands before there’s a bright light beam from behind the machine, eliciting another pained and animalistic screech from the machine. The machine begins to tumble sideways, with its flailing arms still trying to reach for anything, trying to cut anything in its path, but then another light beam hits it- but it's different from the first, it's a dark blue colour that resembles twilight when its not entirely dark, but neither is it bright anymore.

Baekhyun jumps off the machine just before it crashes on the floor with a final snap of its claw, the light in its monitor dying out along with the whirring.

“Pick on someone your own size.” Sehun mutters moodily, finger still on the trigger of a nerf gun lookalike he was cradling. That was a bit confusing because, well, Sehun was much smaller than the egg thing, but he just saved their asses so Chanyeol’s not about to go around running his mouth.

It’s only then that Chanyeol notices the tanned man next to Sehun, slinging his own gun behind his back as he moves towards Baekhyun with a worried pull of his brows.

“Baekhyun, are you alright?”

Baekhyun winces when the man presses on his arm, “Yeah, I’m fine, Jongin.”

The man (Jongin, Chanyeol corrects himself) doesn’t look convinced, but says nothing.

Baekhyun immediately breaks into a short sprint towards Chanyeol, trying to sit him up against the remains of the wall. Chanyeol groans long and loud as he feels something shift in his leg, and it catches Baekhyun’s attention right away.

Baekhyun bites his lip, looking between the gash on Chanyeol’s face and the jelly leg next to him, and then he’s grabbing the scissors that has fallen to the floor, slicing across his palm just enough to bleed, which freaks Chanyeol out and causes both Sehun and Jongin to flinch from behind them.

“Baekhyun- what-” he stutters out. Baekhyun ignores him, carefully rubbing the green goo seeping out of his palm across Chanyeol’s cheek, along the length of his leg. Chanyeol’s mouth goes dry at that.

“Baekhyun-” Jongin says, obviously still in shock with the way his mouth is still half opened, hands reaching out gingerly to hold onto Baekhyun’s shoulder. Baekhyun doesn’t say anything, he’s biting his lips hard enough to bleed, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

It’s Sehun who claps his hand on Jongin’s shoulder, giving a small shake of his head. There’s a silent understanding that passes between them as Jongin’s hand falls from Baekhyun’s shoulder, looking both frustrated and upset.

Sehun looks at Chanyeol over Baekhyun’s shoulder, “We’ll be doing damage control.” is all he says, before gently tugging on Jongin’s limp hand and away from Baekhyun. Jongin casts one last look at Baekhyun and Chanyeol before he relents, walking with reluctance next to Sehun.

Now that they’re alone, Chanyeol can fully focus on Baekhyun, and sees the way that his hands shake, the suppressed sobs that are barely concealed, the redness around his eyes from holding back his tears. It’s all Chanyeol can do to cover Baekhyun’s bleeding hand with his own, catching Baekhyun’s attention.

“I’m okay.” Chanyeol says softly. Yet, this seems to be the wrong thing to say to Baekhyun. Baekhyun shakes his head violently, lips pulling back, showing the almost painful way his teeth is biting down on his lip.

“But you could have died, Chanyeol! You could have died and I couldn’t protect you. You could have died and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You could have died, and left me here all alone.” Baekhyun’s slightly hysterical murmuring cracks at the end, tears finally sliding down his dust covered face and leaving a trail in its wake, “You could have died, you could have-”

“-But I’m here.”

“But you may not have.” Baekhyun takes in a long, stuttered breath, “And I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t save you.”

“But you did save me,” Chanyeol says softly, looking down at their hands, and Baekhyun’s shaking hands start to steady, “You saved me. I know I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t jumped on that thing- which is a pretty stupid thing to do, by the way. How do you think I would feel if you were hurt because of me, if you died trying to save me?”

Baekhyun sniffles, still unable to look at Chanyeol.

“Everything turned out better than it could have been, and the thing that matters is that we’re okay.”

“You’re a fool, you know that, Park Chanyeol? You’re a fool for nearly dying and telling me that it’s okay.” Baekhyun argues weakly, wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand. There’s a hiccup in between his words and his voice comes out cracked and raw, and it’s so raw that it’s all Chanyeol can do to pull Baekhyun into his chest, giving him a gentle embrace swaying side to side. Baekhyun sucks in a sharp breath, going rigid for a split second before he relaxes into the touch, falling pliant in Chanyeol’s arms.

Chanyeol closes his eyes and begins to hum softly, stroking the back of Baekhyun’s head where dust has settled in his hair. He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, until Baekhyun stops shaking, until Baekhyun stops sniffling, until he hears footsteps coming towards them and stopping abruptly, soft murmuring before it fades away.

It’s Sehun who breaks the spell after a long time.

“Baekhyun, you should clean up.” he says. Reluctantly, Baekhyun peels himself from Chanyeol. It’s only after they separate that Chanyeol realises that everything was back to the way they were before- the bed by the window, the door was hinged, not a speck of dirt out of place from before they were attacked.

Sehun waits until Jongin leads Baekhyun out of his flat before he speaks, “I’m sorry, Chanyeol. The Red Force has never been able to track us all the way from our world before, this is the first time it has happened. You shouldn’t have been involved.”

“Well, what happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Sehun puts a hand to his chin, eyebrows furrowing in thought, “We suspect that it might have something to do with Yixing, that they were somehow able to trace the location of his port back to here.”

“‘We’?”

“Jonginnie and I.”

Chanyeol frowns, “Yeah, speaking of whom, who is he?”

“Jongin is also from Exoplanet,” there’s a moment of hesitation, “and my partner.”

“Your partner?” Chanyeol’s eyebrows raise in surprise. Sehun shifts, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive position.

“Why?”

“Nothing. It’s just- you never said that you were attached.”

“You never asked.” Sehun points out, which he has a point.

“Oh, yeah, Baekhyun mentioned something about it once. How you guys find your partner with just one look.”

Sehun snickers, actually snickers at Chanyeol and it vaguely reminds Chanyeol of that one time that he confidently volunteered to answer a question which turned out to be wrong.

“Chanyeol, it’s not just that. It’s a lot of other things as well, didn’t Baekhyun ever elaborate?”

“No.” Chanyeol grumbles. Sehun laughs again, expression softening into something like fondness and patience.

“It’s not just by a look. For Exo, it’s a mixture of things. Of course, looks are the first way we know, because once we see our partner we usually only stare at them. But mostly, it’s feeling a tug on an invisible thread between you and that said person- I believe that humans call this the ‘red string of fate’.”

“Really? Is it an exclusive thing? What happens if the other person doesn’t reciprocate?”

“Well, yes, it’s an exclusive thing.” Sehun unfolds his arm, looking awkwardly at a stain on the carpet where Baekhyun had spilled his beer the first time that they met Jongdae, “The thing is, if the other person chooses not to reciprocate, it would hurt a lot. It’s like losing half of yourself, you never get to close the gap. You’ll just live on feeling like there’s something wrong, like you should be elsewhere. It’s the same if you’re the one initiating the break- it all hurts the same. That’s how we know that that person is the one for us.”

“That’s.. kind of scary. To be so closely linked to another person.”

Sehun smiles with a faraway look in his eyes, “It’s not always a bad thing, you know. We get a lot of energy just by being near them.”

“Is that why you’re so happy now? You’re usually always brooding somewhere.”

Sehun kicks Chanyeol with his shoe petulantly, and Chanyeol laughs.

“So what is Jongin’s power?”

“He can teleport. That’s how he reached here much faster than Yixing can.”

“Yixing arrived first, though.”

“Yeah, but Jongin left Exoplanet only this afternoon.”

“I see. Why did he come here though? I mean, Baekhyun came here to hopefully recover his power and you came to become stronger, so I’m sure that Jongin must have came for something.” As Chanyeol says this, Sehun’s smile begins to wither into discomfort, folding his arms and crossing his legs as he leans on the wall, looking back at the stain on the carpet.

“I-” Sehun begins, then stops himself, “Well, that’s because-”

“Sehun, Jongin says that he’ll shower after you do.” Baekhyun interrupts at the door, hair still wet from his shower and wearing a loose tshirt with the sweater that Chanyeol had given him at the beach.

Sehun looks between Chanyeol and Baekhyun, torn between continuing the conversation and moving away before he decides on the latter, lips pressed into a thin line of determination and secrecy. Sehun looks pointedly at Baekhyun as he passes him by, making Baekhyun look away in guilt which only serves to further pique Chanyeol’s curiosity. But the uneasy frown on Baekhyun’s face makes Chanyeol think that it must be something that upsets Baekhyun, and given what just happened, he really didn’t want to make him upset again.

“Hey.” Chanyeol greets.

“Hey.” Baekhyun answers, wrinkling his nose, “You should clean up as well, you smell awful.”

Chanyeol can’t protest, doesn’t want to although he does keep his shower short because even with accelerated healing (courtesy of Baekhyun), his wounds have yet to heal properly and hurt like hell under the hot water he runs.

When he steps out of the toilet, he finds Baekhyun sitting cross legged on his bed playing with the sleeves of his sweater, deep in thought.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Baekhyun’s head snaps up. He doesn’t say anything for a minute even though he has his mouth open, eyes darting everywhere across the room. “I’m sorry.” he says at last.

Chanyeol frowns, confused. “About what?”

Baekhyun just shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Chanyeol.” he repeats. And now Chanyeol is worried. He approaches Baekhyun, taking a seat at the edge of his bed.

“Hey, what’s this about?” Chanyeol asks quietly, worriedly, “If this was about just now, I’ve already told you that it’s okay. I’m here. Look,” Chanyeol reaches out to take Baekhyun’s smaller hand in his, slotting his fingers in the gaps between Baekhyun’s fingers like matching pieces of a puzzle, “I’m still here.”

Baekhyun keeps his eyes trained on their interlocked hands, giving it a squeeze as if reassuring himself that this was real.

“I’m sorry.” he says again, looking up at Chanyeol with a pained smile. It was like watching taunted glass shatter into a million pieces, scattered across the floor: a beautiful and pitiful mess.

Chanyeol tries to offer a smile of his own, but it comes out feeling forced.

They don’t talk much that night, just laying side by side on the bed with their hands still together and arms pressing against each other’s. It’s not the first time that Baekhyun has slept over in his flat, but it is the first time that they share a bed as they sleep. Aa the night grows longer and Chanyeol’s eyelids grow heavier, he turns his head to take a look at Baekhyun’s sleeping face, open and vulnerable, and thinks of all the things that this man means to him.

The last thought he has as he drifts off to sleep is that one day, he will give Baekhyun the happiness he deserves.

  
The first thought Chanyeol has when he wakes up is that it is awfully hot.

He wakes up slowly, lethargically, stretching his arms and legs across the bed and groaning when he hears some popping sounds from the joints of his bones. It’s nice. His body is sufficiently tired and aching and a good morning stretch across his bed helps him to get rid of some of that stiffness between his joints.

His hands slide across the mattress, feeling the creases of the bedsheet where it has come loose, and smiles to himself.

Then he jolts awake, eyes darting to his sides, hands feeling across for something, for someone.

Baekhyun isn’t here.

“Baekhyun?” Chanyeol calls, and then again when there is no reply. Getting worried and starting to panic, Chanyeol jumps out of his bed, checking in the toilet and kitchen for his friend. No sign of him there or anywhere. This is the first time that Baekhyun has left his flat without waiting for Chanyeol to wake up first, and it’s started to feel strangely amiss.

Chanyeol comes out of the kitchen, hands on his hips as he starts to think about whether it was possible that Baekhyun just didn’t want to disturb Chanyeol’s sleep today, or maybe he had to run an urgent errand somewhere else. His mind is running faster than his pounding heart, eyes looking everywhere in the room for a sign of Baekhyun when he finds it. There’s a white envelope seated nicely in the middle of his bedside table. With trepidation seizing him in its tight grasp, Chanyeol starts to make his way towards the envelope.

On the pristine white envelope, slightly off to the center, is Chanyeol’s name in a thick black ink with careless handwriting, a clear sign of lack of practice. If this is really from Baekhyun, it is understandable, since Baekhyun had never needed to use the written form communication before.

Chanyeol tears open the sealed envelope, unfolding the dog-eared and crumpled paper inside. In its messy scribbles, slightly ineligible, Chanyeol reads:

_Chanyeol,_

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I have to go. They traced me across so many worlds back here, it is not safe for me to be here anymore. It is not safe for you to be around me anymore. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t let you send me off with tears. I couldn’t let your last memory of me be sad._

_Sehun and Jongin asked if I wanted to wipe your memory as well, it was the only thing that was left to follow protocol in restoring everything back to the way it was. But I didn’t want them to. I’m selfish. If there was someone I wanted to remember me back here, I wanted it to be you, the man I love._

_I knew it was going to be you from the moment we met, when you saved my life, I wanted you to stay because I wanted to be closer to you for a longer time but you were scared of me. Then you grew annoyed at me, and I didn’t know what to do. And along the way we became friends and that was the hardest thing for me, because you were so close and yet I couldn’t hold you, but it was the happiest time of my long life._

_And this is why I have to leave, so that they won’t harm you anymore. I wish there was another way, I wish that I could stay, but I can’t do this to you._

_I’m sorry that I couldn’t let you go until the end._

_Baekhyun_

No, wait, that can’t be right.

Chanyeol reads it again. And again. And again. And he reads it until he can tell what sentence is coming next, where the words are misaligned, where the paper has almost torn under the force of the pen. Each time he reads it, Chanyeol still can’t believe it. He doesn’t want to believe that Baekhyun is gone. It’s only until he stares at the blurry words, smudged by water or most probably, Baekhyun’s tears, that it begins to sink in.

Baekhyun is gone. Baekhyun has left him behind.

_“I think that tears and sadness should only be reserved for the times when you know that you’ll never see someone again. That’s the only time when they’ll really have meaning, to mourn for something that’s truly lost.”_

He’s lost in the memory of a sunny day with ice cream and the laughter of children in the background, of Baekhyun looking back at him like Chanyeol was the only person at the ice cream parlor. It’s only when he hears the sound of water dropping, hitting against something that he snaps out of it and looks down.

There’s fresh water droplets on the letter, smudging the letter even further. And then another one falls, slides down the center of the paper slowly. And then another.

Oh, he is crying.

Chanyeol jerks his hand away from him to protect the letter from being smudged beyond understanding, but he can’t stop the tears that keep rolling down his face. He doesn’t know why he’s crying when he can’t feel a thing. It doesn’t hurt, nothing hurts. He can’t feel anything. There’s an overwhelming numbness in his chest where his heart used to be, and Chanyeol is beginning to think that Baekhyun might have taken it along with him when he left.

“You’re a damn coward, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol chokes out a ragged sob, covering his eyes with the sleeves of his pyjamas, “If you love me, come back and say it to me. Come back and tell me that you love me instead of running away.” and then he falls to his knees, sobs growing louder and louder, “Come back and tell me that yourself!”

He cries for a long time. The walls are thin- which is how he even overheard Sehun and Baekhyun that fateful night, but he no longer cares. He cries, loud and painful and pitiful until his eyes become red and puffy, but even then he still can’t feel anything but nothingness.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to tell you how I feel.”

“Hey. Hey! Park Chanyeol!” Jongdae snaps, waving his knife in front of Chanyeol’s face, which is pretty effective in getting Chanyeol’s attention. Chanyeol pulls away from the table immediately, eyes wide in disbelief before he shoots a dirty glare at Jongdae.

“Fuck off, Jongdae! Who the hell uses a knife to catch someone’s attention?”

“It was the only thing that worked, for your information. I’ve been calling your name for a whole minute and you were just staring out of the window with that dumb look on your face. No, stop touching your face, obviously you can’t see your dumb look on your own dumb face now that it’s gone you idiot.” Jongdae sighs in a put off manner, rolling his eyes before it softens, “What’s up with you? I haven’t seen you so spaced out since..”

Jongdae trails off, not completing his sentence and not intending to complete it either. They both know what he’s referring to anyway.

Chanyeol shifts uneasily in his seat, picking up his fork to poke holes in his untouched mashed potato.

“I was just.. thinking.”

“Of what?”

Baekhyun, Chanyeol thinks. “Kyungsoo.” he says instead.

Jongdae raises a skeptical brow, but takes the bait anyway. “Oh, Kyungsoo.” he says in a way that shows how much he doesn’t believe the lie, “Haven’t heard about him in a long time.”

Chanyeol shrugs, poking his fork into his mashed potato and then flattening the mash potato. “Yeah, well, we haven’t been able to meet up as often after I changed jobs, you know? It’s a bit inconvenient. Besides,” a small smile plays at the edge of his lips, fond and wistful, “he’s also seeing someone now.”

“He is?” Jongdae raises his eyebrows, impressed, “Well, I’m glad to hear it. God knows how awkward things became between the both of you after you rejected him.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m really happy for him as well. I’m glad to see that he’s moving on.”

Jongdae stills, a piece of sliced beef halfway to his mouth, then lowers his fork back onto his half-empty plate. “Yeah, he’s moving on.”

 _Here it goes_ , Chanyeol thinks.

“And so should you.” Jongdae says gently, like a mother nudging her child to try something for the first time.

“Jongdae, I have moved on.” Jongdae raises a skeptical brow, grating on Chanyeol’s nerves, “I _have_.”

“Chanyeol, you haven’t seen anyone since Baekhyun left six years ago.” Jongdae say calmly, quietly, in a sad way that Chanyeol only sees when Jongdae gets serious, “I’m worried about you. I know you used to have dreams, then even when that watered down into hopes of settling down, you still wanted to do something with your life. When Baekhyun came along, I could see that you started to enjoy living again, not just living for the sake of it, but enjoying the present, being _in_ the present. But now,” Jongdae pauses, looking up and searching for something in Chanyeol’s eyes, shaking his head in expected disappointment when he doesn’t find it, “you’ve been wandering in circles for 6 years, Chanyeol, and I know you’re waiting for him to come back.”

‘He’s not’ is implied. The silence hangs heavily between them. Even after 6 years, it was still a sore topic of conversation for Chanyeol, and the wound hadn’t even began to heal properly when Jongdae started to pick on the half-formed scabs.

Even after 6 years, Chanyeol has kept his promise to Baekhyun and kept their true identity a secret. True to his word, Baekhyun makes sure that Chanyeol is the only one who remembers them for who they are, and he isn’t sure if that’s a blessing or a curse anymore.

Chanyeol lets go of his fork, losing his appetite almost immediately. It clatters on the plate noisy, but no other patrons of the restaurant pay heed with the commotion, the laughter and loud chatter from nearby tables.

“I’m trying my best, alright?” Chanyeol bristles, “It’s not easy to get closure, to let go of something when you never had the chance to, but I’m doing my best.”

“You always have the chance to let go. Isn’t holding on for 6 years more painful than letting go? Sometimes you just have to take what life throws at you in stride, you can keep harping over the same thing over and over again. I’m not saying that you should throw everything away today; what I mean is that you should at least begin to lessen your grip on what happened, and then one day you’ll find yourself looking back at these memories with fondness instead of bitterness at the possibilities that could have happened.”

Chanyeol doesn’t say anything else, picking up his fork and poking at his food disinterestedly, this time targeting the neglected mesclun salad at the side. Everything that Jongdae said hurt him because it was the truth. He went up and about doing his daily activities: meeting his friends, going to work, sometimes when he felt like it he even went to the gym- a recent development thanks to Yoona- but at the end of the day, he didn’t want to move on from Baekhyun. Baekhyun has been that gaping wound which he let fester in him, the person he thinks of when he looks at the stars on the rare vacations to the countryside, and on bad days, the first thought he has in the morning. He has been waking up to a recurring nightmare for 6 years, and it was starting to get old.

Jongdae was right, he can’t keep doing this to himself. It wasn’t healthy. It’s been 6 years of radio silence. If Baekhyun was still around and hadn’t said anything, doesn’t that also mean something? He couldn’t keep living like this.

It took a while after that- a few months to be exact- but Chanyeol was finally starting to let go of it. It was a good time while it lasted, but the present and the future can be even better. So he tries to go out more often and actually live in the moment, he meets more people in his new workplace and sometimes he flirts with the cute new barista at Jongdae’s boyfriend’s, Minseok’s, cafe (who was apparently his secret roommate, and the reason why they kept frequenting that cafe for a period of time, who knew that Jongdae could keep a secret?). Things were slowly falling back into place and fitting again, and Chanyeol felt thankful for it. It might not have been what he wanted a few years ago, but it was better than he was a few months ago, and he’ll take what he can get.

Some things never really change, though.

Chanyeol still has movie nights on Fridays, except that it has become a solo movie night rather than one shared with other people (with another _person_ , his mind corrects unhelpfully). Large pizzas and cinnamon sticks with two hot chocolates inevitably become a regular pizza with a hot chocolate. But most importantly, he still requests for no pineapples on his pizza.

So it comes as a rude shock on a rainy Friday night in autumn that there’s a loud knock on his door.

“Large hawaiian pizza with cinnamon sticks!”

Chanyeol looks down at the half-eaten pizza slice on his hand, back at the door, and then at the pizza again. Did the delivery man come to the wrong address? Chanyeol was pretty sure that he had only ordered once, and even more certain that it was only a regular pizza.

Nevertheless, he pauses the movie (Interstellar, because Kyungsoo had recommended it ages ago and Chanyeol kept putting it off. Space wasn’t something he wanted to immerse himself in if he could.) and walks towards the door, scratching his belly unashamedly.

He all but yanks the door open, speaking before he looks, “Hey, man, sorry to break it to you but I only ordered one regular pizza, and it already-”

He cuts himself off when he opens his eyes.

It wasn’t a deliveryman at all. It was Baekhyun. Baekhyun holding two boxes with a sheepish, nervous smile on his face.

“Are you sure, sir?” Baekhyun asks, trying to come off as casual but Chanyeol can hear the nervousness underlying it, “There was a special instruction for this order.” with some difficulty, Baekhyun opens the box of pizza, “No pineapples.”

Chanyeol’s stare flickers between Baekhyun and the pizza, because it can’t be real. This has to be a dream. Nothing is ever this easy. When he wakes up he’ll find that Baekhyun isn’t there, and it will be hard again and that wound will sting again but he will live through it.

That’s why Chanyeol doesn’t say a single word for a long time, hungrily drinking in the sight of Baekhyun standing outside his door, because he wants to enjoy the dream as much as he can before it ends.

“I’m sorry that the order is late.”

It’s only when Baekhyun’s smile cracks that Chanyeol starts to believe it, because the Baekhyun he sees in his dreams are always happy.

“Yeah.” Chanyeol mumbles, “It’s very late.”

Baekhyun’s smile falls further and the light flickers. Chanyeol's eyes stray to the little scar above Baekhyun’s right eye, a little faded but still obvious under the white light from the corridor. That’s new, it hadn’t been there 6 years ago. Baekhyun must have gone back to fight the Red Force and maybe that’s where he got his scar. Baekhyun could have stayed at his home, the one he longed for so dearly all those years ago, but he came back.

“But at least it arrived.”

They stand like this, with Chanyeol inside his flat and Baekhyun standing outside, both staring at each other lost in the moment while the rain outside pitter patters. It’s not going to pick up exactly where they left off, because they’re both different people now, shaped by their experiences made in the absence of the other, but it’s a conscious choice to start again, try again.

“Yeah.” Baekhyun smiles, and this time it finally reaches his eyes. God, Chanyeol missed this so much.

“Isn’t your home a world or a few away? Don’t you want to go home?”

“Yeah, but this is where you are.”

It’s such a simple answer, and it’s one that Chanyeol understands wholeheartedly. For the last 6 years, home hasn’t really felt like home at all. But now, things may be a little bit different, because the missing piece of the puzzle came back to make the set whole again.

And maybe, just maybe, it was worth it to wander and be lost and find a home along the way.

* * *

  
_When you reach the end of the world and find nothing there, come home._


End file.
